


You're Home Again (I'm Glad You Kept the Key)

by CheekyBrunette



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Drug Abuse, Hand Jobs, I'm about to tag a lot of things but don't get scared, Insecurity, Inspired heavily by "Fallen Angel" by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, It's always better to over-tag than under-tag, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, There's really only mentions of asanoya and daisuga but I tagged them idk, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyBrunette/pseuds/CheekyBrunette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Using drugs without telling Bokuto didn’t sit right with Akaashi. He had told himself he was using them for Bokuto’s benefit, but knowing Bokuto, he would probably pick a sad and healthy Akaashi over a happy and sick one. Bokuto hated when Akaashi had a cold or the stomach flu. He would probably be distraught if Akaashi developed an addiction to cocaine. </p><p>Akaashi took a shaky breath. “I love you, too, Koutarou,” he promised. “I’m glad you came.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Home Again (I'm Glad You Kept the Key)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the song "Fallen Angel" by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. I recommend listening to the Live version from their Greatest Hits CD. It's not at all necessary for the story, but this is written from Akaashi's perspective. So if you are curious to how Bokuto is feeling, I'd listen to it around two thirds of the way through the story.

Akaashi stared down his apartment door, suitcase in hand.

He hadn’t been home in so long. He used to just walk in, but he didn’t think he could do that now. He wasn’t sure if he was welcome. But knocking felt just as awkward, and Akaashi didn’t know what he would do if Kuroo came to the door instead of Bokuto.

Actually, Akaashi didn’t know what he would do if Bokuto came to the door, either.

He wasn’t the same person Bokuto had fallen in love with. He was emaciated and exhausted. He was running out of energy. Every day, Akaashi had to pry himself out of bed and force himself through the motions. He wasn’t good for Bokuto, and he knew that. It was why he had left in the first place.

He couldn’t take care of him anymore.

Akaashi didn’t deserve anything from Bokuto, but he was all out of options. He was out of money. He was hungry; he hadn’t slept in days. This was the lowest Akaashi had ever been, and before things got crazy —before Akaashi threw his life away— Bokuto used to help when he was sad.

Hesitantly, Akaashi reached for the doorknob, only to freeze when he heard a thud down the hallway.

“Akaashi?”

* * *

**3 Years Ago:**

* * *

“Bokuto-san, where are you dragging me off to?”

Akaashi followed behind Bokuto dutifully as the upperclassman tugged on his hand. Today had been... _odd_ to say the least. Bokuto had been louder than usual, more awkward. He had jumped at least three feet in the air every time Akaashi spoke to him while the entire team snickered behind their hands. It was _weird_. And now Bokuto was pulling him behind the gym.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bokuto said, but his voice was high-pitched and breathy. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

Akaashi lifted an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure _you’re_ the one who’s worried.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Bokuto promised. However, his twitchy fingers intertwined with Akaashi’s said otherwise.

They rounded to the back of the building, and Bokuto stopped them. They were out of sight from just about everyone and everything, and a sense of uneasiness washed over Akaashi. He usually didn’t feel anxious when it was just him and Bokuto like this, but the way Bokuto kept licking his lips and fidgeting had him on edge. “You’re stressing me out,” Akaashi said. “What’s going on?”

Bokuto pulled his hands away from Akaashi’s. They clenched into fists by his sides. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk to me?” Akaashi asked. He took Bokuto’s hand back up in his own. “But you could do that anywhere. You didn’t have to take me behind the gym.”

Bokuto made a keening noise. “But this is different,” he whined. “This is _serious_ , Akaashi.”

Akaashi gulped but was careful to make sure his face stayed neutral. “Serious?”

Bokuto nodded frantically. “Yes, I just... Well, Akaashi, you know how important you are to me, right?” he asked, looking up at Akaashi expectantly.

“I mean-“

“You’re _so_ important,” Bokuto interrupted. “Since you stepped into the gym two years ago, you’ve been there for me so perfectly. You toss to me and you encourage me, but more than that, you’re just... you’re _there._ And I know I’m going to college, and I know things are changing, but the way you care about me... I can’t live without it, Akaashi. I _need_ you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Bokuto-san...” Akaashi felt for Bokuto’s other hand. “Are you... Are you confessing to me?”

Bokuto looked down at his toes. Akaashi could hardly see his face, but he couldn’t miss the pink rising up to the tops of Bokuto’s cheeks. “I mean... Only if you want me to be.”

Akaashi breathed in quick and sharp.

Bokuto seemed to take it the wrong way, though. His face crumbled, and Akaashi let go of his hands only to cup Bokuto’s face, his thumbs running over that adorable blush. “Of _course_ ,” he replied. “Of course I want you to be.”

“You do?” Bokuto asked shyly, looking for all the more like he wanted to break the eye contact Akaashi was forcing on him.

“I do.”

Bokuto’s eyes widened. “You don’t think I’m annoying? Like... like some kid brother type?”

Akaashi smirked. “You’re older than me, Bokuto-san.”

“But you’re the one who takes care of things,” Bokuto argued. His face was open and earnest, but it quickly fell into something a little sadder, a little more self-deprecating. “I don’t know what I have to offer you.”

Akaashi couldn’t help but laugh a little. He dropped his hands to Bokuto’s shoulders. “You have _plenty_ to offer me. No one keeps me calm like you do. No one keeps me focused like you do. No one compliments me like you do. I think I might hate you going off to college more than you do, really. I’m going to miss you.”

Bokuto smiled wide enough to push up his cheeks, making his eyes narrowed and squinty. Akaashi still thought they were beautiful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Akaashi promised, pulling Bokuto in close. “Now, kiss me, you goofball.”

* * *

Bokuto was a lot of things. He was a little dumb and a little oblivious. But he was also genuine and kind, and he had the biggest heart out of anyone Akaashi had ever known.

He used all of the space in that giant heart on Akaashi, and it was because Bokuto has so much love and attention to shower his boyfriend with that they could make a long-distance relationship work. Bokuto never missed a Skype call, he made surprise trips home from college, he rearranged his schedule to come to of Akaashi’s games, and he _always_ texted Akaashi first when anything happened.

It was the texting that reminded Akaashi how much Bokuto cared. It was obvious that he wanted to share _everything_ with him. When Kuroo sneezed soda on his white jeans, it was Akaashi that Bokuto laughed with. When he accidentally his burned cup ramen in the microwave, it was Akaashi that Bokuto whined to. When his university team’s coach was overly critical about Bokuto, it was Akaashi that Bokuto cried to.

It was easy to feel close to Bokuto when he was so proactive at sharing all of his thoughts and feelings with Akaashi. He never felt out of the loop, even if Bokuto was an hour-long train ride away.

Of course, Akaashi’s third-year of high school still felt empty without Bokuto around.

Akaashi meant it when he said that Bokuto kept him calm. Maybe he was more soothing than he thought, or maybe Akaashi’s anxiety was just getting worse, but he couldn’t remember having this many panic attacks with Bokuto around.

University couldn’t come fast enough for Akaashi, but when it did, she showed up at Bokuto and Kuroo’s apartment with tense shoulders and a tight chest.

* * *

“Keiji, do you know how to work the clothes driers here?” Bokuto asked, poking his head into their shared room.

Akaashi’s knees hit the bottom of his desk; he was so startled. Lately, he had been more jittery than usual. Every noise made him jump.

He scoffed at himself, feeling a little stupid, and rubbed his temples. “Koutarou, you’ve been living in this building for a year now. I should be asking _you_ how the driers work.”

Bokuto squirmed a little.

Akaashi huffed out a sigh. “What have you been doing with your laundry all this time if you haven’t been using a dryer?” he asked.

Bokuto waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, you know... hanging it up here and there. Once, Kuroo and I didn’t wash any clothes for, like, three weeks, and literally every available surface had a pair of pants or t-shirt hanging off of it,” he said.

Akaashi squinted at his boyfriend. He didn’t _seem_ embarrassed, but he definitely should be. “How have you made it this far without any life skills?” he wondered out loud, and Bokuto threw a dirty t-shirt at him from the laundry basket he had tucked under one arm.

“Oi, I have _plenty_ of life skills.”

“You have plenty of stupid things to say,” Akaashi replied, glaring.

Bokuto just laughed. He was one of the few people who could pick out when Akaashi was teasing and when he was actually being snotty. There were thousands of reasons why Akaashi loved Bokuto, but their shared sense of humor was high on the list.

“Whatever,” Bokuto said, this time throwing a sweaty sock at Akaashi. He didn’t look upset when Akaashi caught it before it could hit him in the face. “Just come help me, okay? Kuroo and I are trying to be _real people_ now that you’ve moved in.”

“I’m so honored,” Akaashi said dryly, getting up from his chair. He linked arms with Bokuto as they walked downstairs to the laundry room. Sometimes being with Bokuto felt a little bit like babysitting —what with how many questions he had and how much help he needed— but Akaashi had promised himself long ago that he would _always_ be there to take care of Bokuto-san.

“This is cute! It’s a laundry date!” Bokuto cheered as they boarded the elevator.

Akaashi grinned and pinched his boyfriend’s side. Whatever anxiety he’d been feeling earlier had completely disappeared. Only Bokuto could do that for him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Wow, Keiji, that’s a funny way of pronouncing ‘adorable.’” Bokuto waggled his eyebrows, and Akaashi rolled his eyes.

“Come here, you,” he said, before pulling Bokuto in for a kiss. He was a goofball, all right, but he was _Akaashi’s_ goofball.

* * *

Akaashi opened the door to the apartment, and was surprised –but happy- to find Kenma curled up on the couch. “Kozume-san,” he said in greeting. He tried to sound as excited to see Kenma as he felt, but his voice fell as flat as usual.

“Call me Kenma,” he corrected. He had been trying to get Akaashi to call him Kenma since they had met in high school, but with limited success. “It’s good to see you, Akaashi.” He didn’t look up from his PSP.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Akaashi said genuinely. “Are you here to see Kuroo-san?”

“Hell _yeah,_ he is,” Kuroo yelled from the kitchen.

Akaashi took off his shoes by the door and poked his head in to see what Kuroo was up to. The microwave was whirring away. Meanwhile, Bokuto kept trying to sneak handfuls from what looked to be a bowl of microwaved popcorn while Kuroo smacked his hands away. “And what’s going on in here?” Akaashi asked.

Bokuto turned and brightened considerably when he saw his boyfriend standing in the doorway. “Kuroo is making chocolate-drizzled popcorn!” he said excitedly, while Akaashi walked into the kitchen to give Bokuto a kiss hello.

“With M&Ms,” Kuroo tacked on, holding up a bag of the limited addition caramel apple flavor. Akaashi hummed and managed to snag a handful of popcorn before Kuroo could beat his hand away. He took one kernel and passed the rest to a grateful Bokuto.

“It sounds... interesting,” Akaashi said kindly.

“It sounds gross!” Kenma spoke up from the living room. It was the loudest Akaashi had ever heard him, and Bokuto laughed as Kuroo’s face dropped into a frown.

“It’s salty and sweet, you jerk!” he yelled back, but there was no malice in his voice. Kenma and Kuroo had been dating far longer than Bokuto and Akaashi, but they still seemed to be in the honeymoon phase. Kuroo had been talking about engagement rings. They would be together a long time. It made sense that the beginning of their relationship was longer than most.

“You know, we were thinking about having a double date night later,” Bokuto said as Kuroo and Kenma argued between rooms about what kind of snacks were better: sweet or savory.

Akaashi ran a hand through his hair. He was really tired. He had gotten to bed early last night, and he had woken up later than usual, but he still felt absolutely exhausted. Lately, everything wore him out, and he wasn’t sure why.

“Um... I guess that’s okay, as long as we’re not out too late,” he agreed. “Where were you guys thinking of going?”

“Well, Kuroo and I wanted to go out for karaoke-“

“No,” Akaashi interrupted before Bokuto could finish listing his plans for the night.

Bokuto pouted. “That’s what Kenma said, too.”

Akaashi believed it. He had no interest in going out singing, and Kenma was far more reserved than he was. He rubbed Bokuto’s back a little. “How about we just go for dinner, yeah? And maybe tomorrow before practice we can do a day trip.”

“Like to the zoo?”

“Like to the zoo,” Akaashi agreed, nodding. This seemed to perk Bokuto up a bit.

“Okay!” he agreed, just as the timer for the microwave went off. Bokuto leapt out of his seat to stir what appeared to be a bowl of melted chocolate, and Akaashi sighed. He didn’t know if he would have the energy to walk around the zoo and go to volleyball, but he supposed he would have to make it work for Bokuto’s sake.

* * *

Playing volleyball in college was a lot different than playing volleyball in high school. Or, actually, playing volleyball at  _Tokyo University_ was a lot different than playing volleyball in high school.

The coach was... _tough_ to say the least. He made corrections through insults and screaming, rather than gently pointing out mistakes. It didn’t bother Akaashi too much. He was used to this kind of treatment; his coach reminded him of his parents.

However, Bokuto didn’t hold up well.

“Kou... Kou, it’s okay. He’s just trying to make sure you’re playing to the best of your ability,” Akaashi promised, while Bokuto sobbed in his arms. His shoulders were shaking so badly, Akaashi wondered if they would rattle straight off.

Bokuto didn’t respond. Instead, he wailed louder into Akaashi’s neck. Kuroo watched from the doorway of their bedroom, his face pulled into a frown. Even if he had tried to give them privacy, he would have heard Bokuto’s crying from any corner of the house. Plus, he had already heard the horrible things their coach had to say. He had _been_ there.

For some reason, their coach particularly liked to rip on Bokuto’s personality while he yelled at him for making microscopic mistakes in his form and approach. Some of the key phrases that stuck out to Akaashi from today’s practice were:

“Learn to use your energy correctly! This is what you get for being such a _spazz!_ ”

“I’m sick of you’re annoying voice filling up the whole gym! I don’t give a shit about what you have to say until you can properly spike a ball!”

“If you keep distracting my best players with your useless babbling, I’m going to _cram a volleyball down your throat!_ ”

It had been downright _mean_ , and Akaashi’s heart ached for Bokuto. He was supposed to protect him from these kinds of things. Bokuto was older, but Akaashi was _responsible_ for him. He had always been the one person Bokuto had to rely on, and he didn’t want to ruin that, especially not because of some stupid coach.

But there was nothing Akaashi could do. He couldn’t tell the coach off. Bokuto had chosen to play on his team; he would have to cope with his coaching style. And now that it was after the fact, Akaashi couldn’t think of the right thing to say to cheer Bokuto up.

Usually this was so easy, but today his words kept getting caught in his throat.

Fortunately, Kuroo seemed to notice Akaashi’s wide eyes and take matters into his own hands. “Bo...” Kuroo walked further into the room. He sat on the edge of their bed, hesitantly reaching out to rub Bokuto’s back. “I know he’s harsh, but by the end of this, you’re going to be so improved. You’ll show him what a good spiker looks like.”

Bokuto pulled away from Akaashi and looked at Kuroo with his big, watery eyes. “You think?” he asked, a snot bubble wavering out of his nose as he spoke.

Kuroo grinned weakly and grabbed a tissue from Akaashi’s beside table. He wiped Bokuto’s nose for him. “I’m _sure_ of it,” he promised. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just focus on something else, okay? Maybe you, me, and Akaashi can watch a movie.”

“Can it be an action movie?”

Kuroo groaned. “Fine, but only if it won’t make you cry any more than you already have.”

“I promise, I promise, no worries,” Bokuto said. There was still a definite quiver in his voice, and there were still tears leaking out of his cheeks, but he headed into the living room with Kuroo anyway.

Meanwhile, Akaashi stayed on the bed for another moment, frozen. He should be happy that Kuroo had been able to help Bokuto. He should be relieved that Bokuto seemed to be feeling the slightest bit better, but really, he felt _awful_. He was the one who should be making Bokuto feel better, not Kuroo.

Anxiety blossomed through Akaashi’s chest. He felt useless. His parents had long ago snuffed out any thought that might make Akaashi feel valuable. But for the past two years, Bokuto had slowly been pulling Akaashi out of his shell. Bokuto always said Akaashi was the encouraging one, but that wasn’t true. Bokuto was always complimenting him and validating him. He was so supportive.

And Akaashi couldn’t even make him smile when he was sad.

Akaashi gripped out the sheets. He shut his eyes and tried to breath through his nose, desperate to quell the panic he was feeling. Bokuto was crying; he didn’t need to deal with Akaashi being irrational and terrified. Akaashi already felt guilty enough for his panic attacks. Bokuto shouldn’t have to put up with another one.

Eventually, Akaashi’s anxiety died down and he was able to join Bokuto and Kuroo in the living room. Bokuto looked at him quizzically, obviously wondering where he had been. Akaashi was Bokuto’s boyfriend; he should have stayed with him when he was upset.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

“Hey,” Akaashi said, turning Bokuto’s head to face him a little more fully. He left his fingertips on Bokuto’s jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Bokuto replied automatically, not one millisecond of hesitation despite the tears in his eyes. Akaashi’s felt something painful rip right through his chest. Bokuto loved him so much, but Akaashi wasn’t sure if he deserved it.

* * *

“Hey, hey, hey! Akaashi, check me out!” Bokuto yelled as he walked into Akaashi’s check out lane. Bokuto always made it a point to stop by and see Akaashi while he was working. Sometimes he bought a week’s worth of groceries, and sometimes he only bought gum. But he  _always_ came.

“Koutarou... What a surprise to see you here,” Akaashi said, a tiny grin on his face. Bokuto seemed excited to see him smiling.

“No it’s not, I always come!” Bokuto exclaimed, not realizing that Akaashi had been sarcastic. He put his items on the conveyer belt. “Are you happy to see me, though? You seem happy to see me!”

“I’m always happy to see you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi promised. He had learned a long time ago to always agree with Bokuto when he asked questions like that. Otherwise his shoulders slumped and his mouth pulled into a frown. It just wasn’t worth it, not when Akaashi really _was_ happy to see him.

“Good!”

Bokuto nudged his groceries towards Akaashi, looking expectant. Akaashi’s eyebrows furrowed together. He wasn’t sure what Bokuto was so riled up about, but he started to put the pieces together when he began ringing him up. Akaashi’s favorite sparkling juice... Ingredients for Akaashi’s favorite dinner.... A box of Akaashi’s favorite chocolate...

And condoms.

Akaashi had to turn away from the register for a moment, smiling. “You have a big night planned,” he laughed when he turned back around. Bokuto was pouting, and that only made Akaashi’s grin wider.

Bokuto stuck out his bottom lip. “I wanted to do something nice for you!” he whined.

Akaashi couldn’t help but snort. “Is that why these are strawberry flavored?” he asked, waving the condoms in the air.

“Well, don’t show them off!” Bokuto yelped, frantically reaching for the box. Akaashi held him off with one hand.

“Kou, this is a six pack,” he said, reading the label. “There is no way I’m having strawberry flavored sex with you _six times._ ”

“Just forget it!”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t _try_ it,” Akaashi said, scanning the box and putting it in one of Bokuto’s bags. “We’ll see how it goes. They also sell blueberry ones here, we could try those next.”

Bokuto blinked owlishly at Akaashi before a smile emerged on his face. “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” he said, leaning over the counter for a kiss. Akaashi didn’t reciprocate, just shoved Bokuto’s bags into his chest.

“I can’t kiss you while I’m working, goofball,” Akaashi said. He tried to keep a blank expression, but sometimes when he was with Bokuto it was hard to keep his eyes from sparkling. “I’ll see you when I get home.”

“Me and dinner!” Bokuto replied, nodding. Before Akaashi could push him away again, he quickly ducked in to kiss Akaashi’s cheek. He smiled victoriously as he pulled away. Akaashi glared, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. “Love you! I’ll be waiting for you to come home!”

Bokuto started walking away, and all of a sudden, panic washed over Akaashi. “Love you, too!” he squeaked, rubbing his chest. Why was it so scary to see Bokuto walk away?

Akaashi tried to quell his anxiety as a sweet old woman came into his check out lane, but he couldn’t shake his nerves. He was starting to get worried about how dependent he had become on Bokuto. Every time he watched the other boy walk away, he felt like he was self-destructing. Akaashi needed to calm down.

He tried to think positively about his relationship with Bokuto. After all, his boyfriend was making him a special dinner, and if Akaashi knew Bokuto as well as he thought he did, there would definitely be some foot massages and backrubs before Bokuto even _tried_ to kiss him. That was good. Things with Bokuto were _great._

So why were Akaashi’s hands shaking as he bagged groceries?

* * *

“Hey, Keiji, can you-“

“I’m sorry, Kou, not now,” Akaashi said, pulling at his hair a little bit. He had put off his homework all afternoon to toss to Bokuto, but now he was just a few hours away from one of the biggest tests of his college career. His grade for the class depended on this one stupid test. Akaashi couldn’t fail. He was here on a scholarship, and if his GPA dropped, he could easily get kicked out of school.

“Are you sure? Because I kind of need help with-“

“I said _not now_ ,” Akaashi snapped. Guilty tears sprung into his eyes immediately afterwards, though. The last thing he wanted to do was yell at Bokuto. Bokuto was the one thing in his life going _right_. He didn’t want to ruin things with him.

“Okay, okay, I hear you,” Bokuto promise, putting his arms up in self-defense. His shoulders were relaxed, but Akaashi had seen the flash of hurt in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh. Don’t be,” Bokuto said. He walked up behind his chair and gently untangled Akaashi’s fingers from his hair. Bokuto’s arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind. Akaashi let a couple of tears fall as Bokuto kissed his shoulder. “Don’t be stressed. You’ve been studying all week, you _know_ this,” he promised, gently closing Akaashi’s notebook. Akaashi made a panicked noise, but Bokuto only squeezed him tighter. “You can’t study when you’re crying.”

“But I _need_ to study,” Akaashi argued. “I didn’t even _look_ at my notes this afternoon. I’ve forgotten everything.”

“So what?” Bokuto asked. “It’s only one test.” When Akaashi opened his mouth to argue, Bokuto spoke for him. “I _know_ it’s a big one, and I know your worried about your overall course grade, and I know you’re worried about your scholarship, but you don’t need to work yourself to the bone to get a 100 on every test. Just do your best, that’s enough.”

“Koutarou, I love you, but you don’t get it,” Akaashi said, squirming out of Bokuto’s grasp and doubling over his notes again. He made a frustrated noise when his vision was too blurry with tears to read.

“Keiji...”

“Don’t _Keiji_ me,” Akaashi complained. “Just... Just go away. I was fine until you broke my concentration.”

“Do you really want me to leave?” Bokuto asked, and Akaashi turned around for a second, scowling when he saw Bokuto’s big beautiful eyes staring at him. It was so hard to tell Bokuto what he needed when he was looking at him so carefully, so genuinely.

“Yes,” Akaashi said, through gritted teeth as he hunched back over his notes.

Bokuto hummed and slipped out of the room. Guilt made Akaashi’s tears fall twice as quickly as he tried to study. In the end, he gave up in frustration and buried his head into his elbows.

He didn’t move until he heard the sound of something heavy getting placed on the desk by his ear. He looked up to see a mug of tea on the coaster next to his notes. He picked it up, confused. A second later, he felt Bokuto’s hand on his shoulder blade.

Bokuto blinked at him hopefully. “If you’re gonna work yourself to death, how about you at least do it in my lap, huh? Wanna snuggle?”

Akaashi wanted to say no. He didn’t deserve to have Bokuto taking care of him, not after all the shit Akaashi put him through on a regular basis. However, his heart felt like it had literally lodged itself somewhere up in Akaashi’s throat, right beneath his Adam’s apple, and he _needed_ a big, strong hug from his big, strong boyfriend.

“Yes, please.”

Akaashi could see a wave of happiness roll over Bokuto. Before he could comment, however, Bokuto had picked him up bridal style. Akaashi squeaked, fumbling with his mug to keep from spilling.

Bokuto carried Akaashi and his notes out to the living room. “Here, I’ll quiz you,” Bokuto offered, cracking open the notebook. Akaashi settled against Bokuto as he answered all of his quiz questions. He breathed in the smell of Bokuto’s laundry detergent. Every time he answered a question right, Bokuto kissed his forehead, and Akaashi rested more heavily against him.

* * *

Akaashi got an 87% on his test. Bokuto was elated, but Akaashi couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t good enough.

* * *

Bokuto tugged on Akaashi’s hand. Ever since the day Bokuto confessed, he had been dragging Akaashi around, but he never minded. Even on days like today —when Akaashi was too anxious to really feel like going anywhere— Akaashi was happy to let Bokuto take him wherever he pleased.

“So I know you’ve been feeling down lately,” Bokuto began, “ _but_ I thought of something that might cheer you up.”

“Did you find a way to magically get me an A on my next term paper?” Akaashi asked hopefully. His grades hadn’t been as good as they could have been lately. Bokuto said he was stretched too thin. His dad said he was an idiot who wasn’t likely to succeed anyway. His mom hadn’t spoken to him in months.

Regardless of the reason for Akaashi’s slipping grades, he was starting to feel panicked about it. If he wasn’t too exhausted to get out of bed, his nose was buried deep into the spine of one of his many textbooks. He took notes on his notes on his notes. He should be doing better, but nothing would stick in his tired brain.

“I didn’t, but this is just as magical, I promise,” Bokuto said, linking their fingers together.

Akaashi arched an eyebrow, trying to ignore how anxious he felt. He couldn’t be a downer all of the time, not when Bokuto was so cheerful and kind. Akaashi needed to meet him halfway.

Bokuto pulled him down to the end of some unknown street. The houses and storefronts all looked the same, until they got to a building that was purple with aqua trim. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Koutarou, I love you, but you need to tell me what I’m in for: right now. No surprises,” he said sternly.

Bokuto pouted. “You’ll like it, I promise!” he said. “I figured you’d be tired and wouldn’t want to walk around a zoo or aquarium or anything like that, so I thought something sitting would be good, and this seemed like the best option.”

Akaashi ignored how guilty he felt for being so low energy while dating someone as excitable as Bokuto. Instead he just glared at his boyfriend a little harder. “Yes, but what _is_ this?”

“It’s Paint-A-Plate!” Bokuto exclaimed happily, gesturing up at the sign. When Akaashi didn’t smile or get excited right away, Bokuto huffed out a sigh. “It’s like... where you go and paint pottery, and then they make it all fancy and shiny so you can use it like a real bowl, or plate, or whatever,” he explained.

Akaashi blinked. He looked in through the windows and took note of all the white, unfinished pottery on the shelves. Bokuto was still looking him expectantly, and Akaashi knew he would be crushed if he didn’t act excited about the date he planned.

Fortunately for Bokuto, this was definitely one of his better ideas.

Akaashi couldn’t stop a smile from creeping up his face. “You know? That actually sounds really fun,” he said genuinely. He let Bokuto pull him up and into the shop. “Why did you want to take me some place nice like this?”

“Because I _love you,_ Keiji!” Bokuto replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Now, quick, pick something to paint.”

Akaashi laughed as Bokuto pushed him towards the wall filled with pottery. After a couple minutes and some help from the storeowners, Akaashi managed to pick out a nice mug and all of the colors he wanted to use. Bokuto had collected at least thirteen different glazes, but he had yet to pick something to paint. His shoulders were slumped as he stared between piggy banks and ceramic vases.

“Okay, angel, what are you having trouble choosing between?” Akaashi asked, sneaking up behind Bokuto and holding onto his waist. He was in a good mood.

Meanwhile, Bokuto seemed to brighten a bit: either due to the pet name or Akaashi’s hands on him. He held up a little owl-shaped piggy bank and a tall, square shaped vase. “These two.”

“Those are very different.”

“Well...The piggy bank is cool! I like owls! Like our first team together!” Bokuto exclaimed. “But I also like the vase because then I can buy you flowers, Akaashi! And you can have somewhere nice to put them.”

Akaashi grinned, a blush sweeping over his cheeks. He hid his face in Bokuto’s shoulder for a second. “You think about me too much. You should get what _you_ want, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto seemed to think for a moment. He shifted in Akaashi’s arms. Usually a twitchy Bokuto was a thoughtful Bokuto. He straightened up abruptly when he made his decision. “I’m going to get the vase.”

“Koutarou...”

“No, I want to!” Bokuto said before Akaashi could scold him. He put the piggy bank down and held the vase close to his chest. “I like flowers, too. And the farmers market sells, um... those things... bo... um... Well, they sell bunches of them for two dollars; you can get them so cheap.” Bokuto snapped his fingers suddenly. “Bokets! That’s what they’re called.”

Akaashi rubbed Bokuto’s hip. “Bouquets,” he corrected gently. He felt his boyfriend deflate a little in his arms.

“Oh.”

Akaashi kissed the back of his neck. “Don’t feel bad. You were close,” he said, smiling to himself when he felt Bokuto’s spine straighten out under him. He hadn’t been doing a great job of cheering Bokuto up lately, but it was nice to see that he could still help him out of his dejected mode if he had to. “You want to paint your vase now?”

“Yeah! And you can paint your...”

“Mug,” Akaashi filled in.

“Right, mug! Come on!” Bokuto pulled Akaashi to their table, and Akaashi let him. Bokuto was kind enough to pull out Akaashi’s chair before sitting down himself. Within two minutes of Bokuto sitting at the table, he was covered in little flecks of glaze.

“You’re such a mess, “Akaashi teased. He had only started the first layer of paint on his mug. He was doing white on the outside with a black stripe around the top. The inside was going to be gold like Bokuto’s eyes.

“I’m painting for you, Keiji!” Bokuto said, seemingly not hearing him.

“I know. You’re doing a good job,” Akaashi promised. He had no idea what Bokuto was doing with his rainbow of colors, but Akaashi figured anything would look good with flowers in it. Bokuto couldn’t mess things up too badly.

“Thanks!” Bokuto chirped. “But hey, we should talk about stuff, you know? Because this is a date, and we usually do our best talking on dates. It’s, like... our thing.”

“It _is_ our thing,” Akaashi agreed. Bokuto usually was more focused on dates. He was always attentive, and he _always_ put Akaashi first. But he also had a very, very short attention span, and it was hard to have a back and forth conversation with him unless he was being intentional about it. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I dunno... How are you liking the team? Is it weird playing volleyball in college?” Bokuto asked. Akaashi blushed. Bokuto always looked so interested in everything Akaashi had to say.

“I think it’s all right... Nishinoya is a _really_ good libero. I didn’t notice in high school, but he’s amazing. And Watari somehow manages to keep up with him, I have no idea who’s going to play starter this season.”

Bokuto nodded. “I know, I know! I thought I was pretty good at receiving, but then I saw Nishinoya do his rolling thunder deal, and like... Ah! It’s so cool! I’m glad he’s playing with us instead of against us!” he said excitedly.

Akaashi smiled fondly. He reached out with his toe and rubbed it up and down his boyfriend’s calf. Akaashi wasn’t one for PDA, but he _loved_ footsie. “Yeah... I like playing with everyone, but I don’t think I’m going to be starting setter,” he said.

Bokuto made an anguished noise. “What?”

“Well, that Oikawa guy is amazing. And he tosses really well to Iwaizumi-san, and Daichi, and Kuroo, and Yamamoto, and... Well, everyone really.”

“Everyone but me!” Bokuto said with a pout. “You toss to me the best out of everyone. I don’t want anyone else to be my setter.”

Akaashi gave a tiny smile. “I know you don’t... You’re loyal to a fault, Bokuto-san.”

“I’m sorry.”

Akaashi laughed. “No, no, it’s not a bad thing, I don’t mind,” he promised. “But don’t be too worried about who the sets to you during games, okay? You’ve still got me to come home to, it’ll be okay if you’re on the court with someone else.” When Bokuto still didn’t look happy, Akaashi nudged his leg a little harder with his toes. “Come on, you lasted a year without me, didn’t you? You’ll be okay, and I’ll be on the sidelines cheering you on.”

Bokuto reached out to grab Akaashi’s fingers, and Akaashi tried not to wince as the wet glaze on Bokuto’s hand transferred onto his own. “I just love you so much, Akaashi. I just love you so much.”

Akaashi blushed. He had to fight to keep his face neutral. He rubbed the back of Bokuto’s palm with his thumb. “I love you, too.”

“Really?”

“Of course, goofball,” Akaashi replied. “Stop being so nutty, and work on my vase. It’s looking really good,” he promised.

“Yeah, I chose all these great colors!” Bokuto agreed. Akaashi sighed. He rested his head on his hand, smiling fondly at Bokuto as he waited for his first layer of glaze to dry. He had really lucked out with Bokuto Koutarou and all of his silly rainbow colors.

* * *

Akaashi had yet to get out of bed today. He was thinking about  _never_ getting out of bed. Staying here with his head on Bokuto’s pillow and their comforter wrapped around his shoulders seemed like a good idea.

Akaashi heard the sound of the front door open. Bokuto and Kuroo were laughing about something, and Akaashi frowned. He hadn’t laughed with Bokuto like that in ages. Maybe ever. Akaashi’s emotions had always been pretty flat, but now they were just a constant downwards spiral.

Bokuto flung open their bedroom door and jumped on top of Akaashi. “Hey, hey, hey!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Akaashi repeated, his voice monotone.

Bokuto giggled and pressed a kiss to Akaashi’s nose. “I missed you today!” Bokuto said, combing his fingers through Akaashi’s hair. “You missed practice.”

“Oh, yeah,” Akaashi said distractedly. He hadn’t realized he’d been lying here for so long. He should probably get up and go to work soon. “How was that for you? Did you make it out okay?” he questioned, reaching out to grab Bokuto’s shirt. He pulled him down on top of him. His arms wrapped around Bokuto’s neck in a tight hug.

Akaashi felt Bokuto smile against his shoulder for a second, but it quickly fell. He clutched onto Akaashi a little too tightly. “Eh. It could have gone better.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah...” Bokuto replied. “I think maybe I’m getting worse.”

“That can’t possibly be true,” Akaashi promised, rubbing Bokuto’s back a little bit. Even though Bokuto was sad, being with his boyfriend was helping Akaashi find some energy again. He owed Bokuto so much. He was so useless without him, just a lump lying in bed all day.

“Well, it was hard without you there. Oikawa tosses fine. Or, well, more than fine, he’s great, but he doesn’t make me as happy as you do, you know? Like I do better when we’re on the court _together_.”

“Oh.” Guilt washed over Akaashi. He started breathing so hard, he was practically panting. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Bokuto said, sitting up on his forearms. “You haven’t been feeling good lately, it was probably good for you to take a break.”

Akaashi didn’t respond. He just squeaked in agreement.

Bokuto switched up their positioning. He sat up properly in bed and pulled Akaashi into his lap. It only made Akaashi feel more nervous, however. Bokuto was sad; he shouldn’t be taking care of Akaashi like this. He was so embarrassed and guilty...

“Hey, you’re not you lately, Keiji.”

Akaashi whimpered. He wanted to speak, but he was so anxious, he couldn’t get any words out. Bokuto held him carefully. It was always surprising how such strong arms could be so gentle. He took a couple shaky breaths. “I... Fuck, I _know_ ,” Akaashi replied, wiping tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m the worst boyfriend.”

“Geez, stop apologizing already, would you?” Bokuto said, pinching Akaashi’s side. “You’re a _great_ boyfriend, it’s okay that you’re going through a hard time right now.”

“It’s not. I’m sorry.”

Bokuto frowned. “Akaashi, the last thing I’m going to do is be mad at you for feeling _sad_. You already feel awful enough. You don’t have to be sorry,” Bokuto promised. Akaashi didn’t respond. There was nothing to say. Instead, he just shook in Bokuto’s arms as his boyfriend pressed kiss after kiss to his cheek. “You’re okay... You’re okay...” Bokuto promised.

“I’m... I’m... I’m...”

“If you’re about to say that you’re sorry, I’m gonna have to tickle you.”

“Ah, Koutarou, literally _anything_ but that.”

“Too late!” Bokuto tickled Akaashi’s sides, managing to pull a laugh out of him. He giggled into Bokuto’s shoulder. Eventually, Bokuto stopped tickling his tummy and instead threw him over one shoulder. “All right, let’s go face the world together, huh? Maybe we can both take a shower.”

“No funny business,” Akaashi warned, hanging limply. He legs dangled in the air and his hands gripped onto the back of Bokuto’s t-shirt. Bokuto laughed and Akaashi held on tighter, scared he would fall on his face. It dawned on Akaashi that they were laughing together, even though he still felt like shit. A soft smile settled on Akaashi’s face. Maybe things weren’t as bad as he thought.

* * *

Things were definitely bad. Things were  _awful._

Akaashi had thought he was feeling good enough to go out with Bokuto and the team to some volleyball party, but he definitely wasn’t. Honestly, Akaashi was having trouble just _walking_. All he wanted to do was lie down on the ground and go to sleep.

Plus, the party wasn’t exactly what Akaashi had expected. He thought it would just be a couple of his teammates huddled around in Kuroo’s parents’ house, but there were a lot of people here that Akaashi had never met. Every room was hazy with smoke, the music was too loud to hear anyone talking, and Akaashi had lost Bokuto within twenty minutes of stepping in the door.

It was too exhausting for Akaashi to be around people. If he couldn’t find Bokuto, then he would just have to find an empty room.

Akaashi stumbled upstairs. He entered the first door he came to.

“Oh,” Akaashi said, finding the room already occupied. There were three people leaning over a set of drawers. Akaashi’s eyes widened when he realized the girl in the front was frozen stiff, a credit card in her hand and four lines of white powder on the dresser. “ _Oh._ Oh, man, I’m sorry. I’ll just...” His eyes lingered on the drugs.

One boy clapped his shoulder. “Hey, you want in on this? Our friend Aya was gonna hit the fourth line, but she chickened out.”

“You’d share?” Akaashi asked. “Isn’t coke expensive?”

“Nah, this is like half a gram. It was only 2,000 yen.”

Akaashi frowned. Something so addictive shouldn’t be so cheap. “How did you even get your hands on this stuff?”

“I’ve got a supplier,” the boy said, waving his hand passively. “Now, c’mon. Do you wanna get a line or not?”

Akaashi blinked. What a weird question. Akaashi was on a very competitive volleyball team; he had to take good care of his body. But honestly, Akaashi hadn’t been taking proper care of his body for _weeks_ , what with how depressed he had been lately. It would be really nice –for just a moment- if he could stop feeling so unbelievably _awful_.

“Ah, yeah. Yeah, I do.”

* * *

Akaashi took the stairs two at a time, running around the house to find Bokuto. The second he saw his ridiculous hair; he started laughing. He rushed over and jumped onto his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Koutarou!”

Bokuto stepped forwards. His arms came up to catch Akaashi’s legs. “Keiji! I found you!”

“No, _I_ found _you,”_ Akaashi pointed out, laughing gleefully as Bokuto spun them both around the kitchen. There were still people everywhere, and Akaashi had no idea how they didn’t run into anyone. This party was crazy, but for once in his life, Akaashi didn’t _mind_ crazy. Crazy was _great_.

“Babe, you seem like you’re in a good mood,” Bokuto said, setting Akaashi down on his own two feet. Akaashi grinned, crinkling his nose.

“I am! I feel great!”

“Yeah? Did something happen?” Bokuto asked, rubbing one of Akaashi’s arms. Akaashi knew he should feel guilty. Bokuto was being the same great boyfriend he always was; Meanwhile, Akaashi was high as a kite.

He jerked his head up and down. “Mhm, mhm, I made a new friend! His name is Ohta. He’s nice! So nice!”

Bokuto smiled at him. He snatched up both of Akaashi’s hands and bounced excitedly. “Great! That’s so great! You needed a positive experience like that. I’m so happy that you met someone! It’s good that you’re talking to other people, and that you’re smiling, and that you’re feeling good... I’m just so happy for you, honest! I’m _so_ happy!”

“I’m so happy, too!” Akaashi replied. _Euphoric_ might be a better word, but Akaashi would never confess to it. He didn’t want this feeling to end. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt even the slightest bit happy, so to be so ecstatic, to not feel nervous anymore... Akaashi felt like smiling. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like smiling.

“Some guys and I were about to go play a practice scrimmage in the backyard. What do you say? Are you up for some _night_ volleyball?” he asked, wiggling a set of fingers in Akaashi’s face. Akaashi grinned and bit one of the digits Bokuto had too close to his mouth. “ _Feisty._ ”

Bokuto leaned in to kiss Akaashi, but Akaashi only gave him a peck. “Later,” Akaashi promised. “First: _night_ volleyball.”

“Night volleyball!” Bokuto cheered, eliciting shouts from all the other volleyball players in the kitchen.

Everyone hurried outside, and Akaashi let himself get swept up in the rush. He felt exhilarated. Everything was just so exciting. Every time a ball came his way, it was like lightening shooting down his fingertips, he was just so happy to be playing and to be tossing.

Usually, Akaashi sent Bokuto a never-ending stream of praise while he played, but today, Akaashi was more over the top than usual. “Bokuto, that spike was amazing, like such a good arch, like a _rainbow_ , you’re like twelve different colors in my eyes right now, I’m so proud of you,” he gushed.

Bokuto landed back on his feet after a particularly powerful spike. He put his hands on his hips proudly. “Thanks, kid!” he said, a big drunken smile on his face. Akaashi returned it with his own faded grin, and Kuroo fell in between them.

“Dude... Dude, I am so _drunk_ ,” he complained. “All those shots are hitting me at once.”

Daichi frowned on the other side of the net. “Maybe we should stop playing,” he suggested. “It’s two in the morning, this party should start winding down anyway.”

“Leave it to Daichi to be the sober one. You’re such a _dad_ and you always have been,” Nishinoya muttered from the back line.

Daichi glared at him for a moment before ducking under the net and stomping towards him. Nishinoya squealed and tried to run away, but Daichi caught him first and hoisted him over one shoulder. Nishinoya didn’t bother to struggle –he was probably too wasted- and just hung over Daichi’s shoulder like a limp noodle. “This game is over,” Daichi said. “The ball has been hitting the ground more than our hands, it’s time to call it quits.”

“I could keep going,” Akaashi replied. “I could keep going _forever_.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Akaashi realized that he was way too energetic for 2:00 a.m., but he was too ecstatic to try to calm down. He had known before his first line that coke could make you happy, but he hadn’t realized it would give him energy. He had been tired for so long, it felt so good to be awake like this.

Akaashi turned to Bokuto. “Hey, we should run home.”

Bokuto snorted. “That is a _terrible_ idea,” Bokuto promised him. “We’re ages away from campus, we took a train here, remember?”

Akaashi pouted, but he perked up in a moment. “Well, we could play duck, duck, goose! I love that game.”

“Keiji, everyone else is already inside,” Bokuto said, and Akaashi looked around belatedly. “Kuroo said we could stay over tonight. Do you want to do some sprints out here until you get tired? Coach would be proud of us for conditioning over the weekend.”

Akaashi nodded. “Yes. Sprints. I love running.”

“You _hate_ running.”

“Well, I love running tonight.”

Bokuto just laughed. Akaashi wondered what he thought of him right now. Bokuto hadn’t seen an energetic and happy Akaashi in... Well, forever. Akaashi had never been able to match Bokuto’s excitement levels, but now here he was, acting as enthusiastic as his boyfriend for a change.

If the smile on Bokuto’s face was any indication, then he definitely liked Akaashi when he was high like this. Akaashi also liked being high like this. Maybe he should try to do this more often.

* * *

The next morning Akaashi felt like he had been run over by a truck.

At this point, he was used to feeling exhausted and sad, but today he felt twice as awful as usual. Guilt pooled in his stomach. Bokuto would have been so disappointed to know what he had done to himself last night. Akaashi didn’t feel many emotions very well anymore, but he did feel _very_ strongly about protecting Bokuto.

His boyfriend was so sweet and endearing. Akaashi typically felt terrible about the way Bokuto doted on him, and sought him out, and smothered him in affection. He didn’t deserve it.

But now he felt worse. Bokuto would probably be devastated if he knew Akaashi had done something so reckless and dangerous. Bokuto didn’t know how to take care of Akaashi, so he expected Akaashi to take care of himself.

He felt so ashamed about what he had done, he couldn’t tell Bokuto about it. Instead, he listened to his boyfriend blather on about the party as he sipped coffee and tried to massage away his headache.

“It was so fun, Keiji! We ran around for so long last night! I kept thinking you would get tired, but you never did, and when Nishinoya escaped from Daichi to come race us, I thought he was gonna be able to beat you, but then he threw up in Kuroo’s mom’s flowerbed, and it was _so funny._ Wasn’t it funny, Keiji?”

“Hilarious, Koutarou,” Akaashi agreed, even though he couldn’t remember it. Honestly, the night before was one big blur. The only evidence he had that last night had ever happened was Koutarou’s stories and the phone number of the kid who shared his stash with him: Ohta Hirotoshi.

He should probably delete his number, but he couldn’t find the will. Frankly, Akaashi had liked how he had been able to keep up with Bokuto for a change. He didn’t want to do drugs. He didn’t need a dealer, or a middleman, or anything like that.

...But the option was nice.

“You’re not laughing,” Bokuto pointed out, nudging Akaashi’s shin with his socked foot. They were both snuggled into opposite sides of the couch, their legs tangled in the middle.

Akaashi shrugged. “I’m just not feeling that great,” he admitted, taking a long sip of coffee. He was using the mug he had painted with Bokuto.

Bokuto’s face fell, and Akaashi was pretty sure the guilt was _literally_ choking him. Why did he have to make Bokuto sad all of the time? Why couldn’t he take care of him properly? He was such a bad boyfriend; he treated Bokuto like such crap. Bokuto was so sensitive, and Akaashi never did anything to encourage him, he just sat around depressed. He was so awful; he was so-

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good,” Bokuto said, pouting for a moment. His face brightened seconds later. “But hey! It’s Sunday! We don’t have class or practice! Maybe we can spend the day taking care of you, yeah? We can just hang out, and watch movies, and I can give you loads of kisses.”

Akaashi smiled weakly, forcing himself to keep calm. “That sounds like a great idea,” he promised. “How about you pick the first thing we watch.”

“Really? Are you sure? I want today to be about you!”

Akaashi’s smile turned bitter. Bokuto made too many days about him. It was time for Bokuto to have a say in things. “I don’t need that,” he promised, reaching out to grab onto Bokuto’s hand. He bit his bottom lip self-deprecatingly. “Besides, I like your movies. They’re always so exciting.”

Bokuto cheered up considerably. “Okay! Okay, I love choosing!” he exclaimed, jumping off the couch. Akaashi listened to him prattle on about movie titles and tried not to feel bad for making Bokuto stay cooped up in the apartment with him all day.

He needed to figure out a way to muster up the energy to do things with his boyfriend. As it was, Akaashi was useless at giving Bokuto the things he needed.

* * *

Akaashi wasn’t completely ignorant to his problems. He knew that he was more insecure than other people, that he hated himself a little too much. He also knew what anxiety was, and that he probably had it, and how anxiety and depression went hand and hand.

The problem was, he just didn’t feel valuable enough to actually go about fixing it. Akaashi wasn’t important. He didn’t mean anything, so why bother feeling better? He wasn’t worth the effort of whatever therapists and doctors he would need to perk up.

The only thing that made him feel like he should change was Bokuto.

He couldn’t take care of Bokuto when he was like this. He could hardly take care of himself the way he was supposed to. All he felt like doing was lying on the floor in a heap, but instead he had to go to practice, and study, and talk to people...

It was all too much, and it was showing in his volleyball skills.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, calling out the toss. However, his voice was almost too quiet to be heard. He couldn’t find the willpower to be any louder. It was already an effort to lift his hands and toss the ball.

In the end, he tossed too slowly. He and Bokuto usually move at first tempo. However, Akaashi tossed to him at second, and Bokuto was already falling from his jump as the ball reached him. He barely managed to touch the ball with his fingertips.

Somehow, Bokuto managed to nudge the ball enough to get it over the net. It bounced on the top band and hit the other side of the court, only because their opponents didn’t see it coming.

Bokuto looked sheepish as he fell to his feet, and Akaashi wanted to scream. _It’s not your fault; it’s mine. I can’t toss to you the way you need me to._

“Bokuto!” their coach snapped. “What the hell was that?”

“Sorry, Coach,” Bokuto apologized with a wince. Akaashi felt sick, and he spotted Kuroo rolling his eyes on the other side of the net. He was pretty sure everyone knew the last play was Akaashi’s fault, but their coach liked targeting Bokuto for some reason.

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry, just hit the ball!” Their coach threw his clipboard down on the bench next to him in disgust. “I scouted you for you to play, not to screw around on the court. Get serious about this.”

Bokuto nodded, but his shoulders slumped. It was painful for Akaashi to see him so disheartened. He was used to Bokuto’s shifting moods, but with his being so depressed lately, they were harder for him to take.

They only had a couple more points left in their scrimmage. In the end, Akaashi and Bokuto’s team lost by six.

 _Six_.

Akaashi knew Bokuto would be whining about that number all night. He would probably talk about this for a while, actually, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by.

Apparently, the rest of the team could tell how upset Bokuto was because they all tried to cheer him up after practice. Akaashi watched as six of their teammates all managed to ruffle Bokuto’s hair or tell him he did a good job before he got the chance to.

“Hey, Bokuto,” Iwaizumi said, clapping him on the shoulder when he came out of the shower. “Don’t let Coach Inoue get to you. I think it’s really impressive that you managed to hit that toss at all. I don’t know if I could have.”

Bokuto nodded, standing up a little straighter. “I guess it was pretty cool,” he admitted.

“Yeah, it was.” Iwaizumi punched his arm and started to walk away, but Akaashi stopped him before he could head to the showers.

“Hey. Thanks for talking to him,” he said, knowing that he couldn’t have cheered Bokuto up like that. “You’re good at cheering him up.”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Well, normally, I have to deal with Oikawa,” he replied. “Speaking of: _Oi! Shittykawa!_ Quit bugging Bokuto and get in the shower. You smell like a locker room!”

“How can you even tell? We’re _in_ a locker room!” Oikawa whined, but he stomped over anyway, leaving Bokuto to put on his clothes in peace. He had been poking Bokuto in the side to cheer him up. Honestly, it had probably worked; Bokuto was easy to encourage. Akaashi just wasn’t any good at it.

Akaashi still needed to shower, too, so it took him a couple minutes to be ready to walk back home with Bokuto. He let his boyfriend snatch up his hand the second they were standing next to each other.

“I need to apologize to you,” Akaashi said when they were alone on the sidewalk. Bokuto blinked at him owlishly. “It was my fault that you got yelled at today. I didn’t toss to you well. We’ve worked out a rhythm after all of these years, and I couldn’t find it today. I’m so _sorry_ that you got yelled at instead of me,” he apologized, his voice cracking. He hadn’t realized he was on the verge of crying until he heard the tears in his voice.

Bokuto frowned. “Akaashi, it’s okay. Everyone has off days, you don’t need to apologize.”

Akaashi ducked his head away. It didn’t _feel_ okay. Nothing felt okay lately.

Bokuto elbowed his side as they walked. “Hey, cheer up, okay? I know I was sad after practice, but I’m all right,” he promised. Akaashi nodded, sniffling. Bokuto let go of his hand so he could rub his back, but it just made Akaashi feel even _worse._ He kept making Bokuto take care of him, when it should be the other way around.

 _Bokuto_ should be the one almost crying while Akaashi tried to cheer _him_ up. Akaashi needed to stop absorbing all of the attention; their relationship wasn’t balanced.

It was a terrible thought, but Akaashi couldn’t help but feel like the only time he could keep up with Bokuto was when he was high. He had never felt better playing volleyball than he had at Kuroo’s party.

It wasn’t a good idea; it was a terrible one. However, maybe the only way to stay on the volleyball team and to keep tossing to Bokuto was to be high during practice. Otherwise, Akaashi had no idea how he was going to take care of Bokuto the way he needed to. There was no other way.

* * *

Akaashi arrived at practice early and ducked into the bathroom. There was a little metal shelf under each mirror, flat and enough to form a line on.

Akaashi needed to use it today.

He pulled out a little sandwich baggie of white powder. Ohta had assured him there was enough inside for a week’s worth of practices. Akaashi didn’t know if he would use it every time –probably not, that much coke couldn’t be good for him- but lately, he had liked keeping his options open when it came to drugs.

Yes, he knew it was stupid, but he also knew he was tired and sad, and this was the only thing that helped.

Akaashi poured out maybe an eighth of a gram on the counter. He stared at it for a minute. This felt _so wrong_. But every time he thought about how dejected Bokuto had been yesterday, he felt way worse. He couldn’t keep being such a failure. He needed to get his life together.

Akaashi made quick work of forming a line with his student ID. He swept through the powder once or twice to get it thin enough. He pressed a finger to the side of his nose, trying to calm himself down. He felt like he was on the edge of a panic attack.

He wanted to take his time with it, but the sound of the door to the locker room opening made him snort it all as fast as possible.

He straightened out, blinking in the mirror hazily as Daichi entered the locker room. He sniffed a couple of times, trying to keep from sneezing. Daichi looked up when he heard him snuffling.

“Hey, Akaashi. You’re here early. Are you all right?”

Was Akaashi all right? Honestly, not really. He felt like he had to snort drugs just to get through a volleyball practice. He had never been more ashamed or embarrassed.

“I’m fine,” he promised. “I thought I was going to sneeze, is all.”

“Ugh, I hate that,” Daichi sympathized before going about getting ready for practice. Akaashi blinked quickly as the high started to sink in. Hopefully, this would be good for practice.

* * *

It turned out, that being high was  _great_ for practice. Tosses were leaving Akaashi’s fingertips faster than ever before, almost too fast for Bokuto to keep up with. He watched as again and again, Bokuto would jump for a spike only to hit the ball on the edge of his hand instead of flat on his palm.

Normally, Akaashi would try to adjust for that kind of thing, but their coach was excited about his new speed. “Great work, Akaashi! That is the kind of pace we should all be moving at!” he yelled, his booming voice filling the gym. “And Watari, great receive.”

Akaashi laughed as Bokuto waited anxiously for his share of praise. After all, even when Akaashi was high and light-headed like this, he could tell that Bokuto was doing a good job. It wasn’t easy to keep up with the kind of toss Akaashi was throwing at him. A lesser spiker would have missed just about every one Akaashi had thrown at him, but Bokuto was still managing to get spike after spike over the net.

However, it was almost as if their coach was incapable of saying anything nice to Bokuto. He ignored him even though he had been pivotal to the last play. “Well, what are you waiting for?” their coach asked. “Next point, get on with it.”

Akaashi giggled even more as Bokuto deflated. He was so sad and cute. Akaashi distracted himself for a moment to pinch his adorable boyfriend’s cheek, when another receive was sent his way.

“Oh, oh, I got it!” Akaashi said happily, sending another quick toss to Bokuto. The lightning was back; he could feel the electricity shooting down his forearms. This was so weird. Akaashi had never felt more connected with his body. He could feel _everything._ He wondered if this was how most people felt, considering Akaashi spent most of his time while he was sober feeling like he was hovering just outside of his body.

Bokuto completely missed Akaashi’s toss this time. Coach Inoue frowned and scribbled something on his clipboard. He didn’t yell, though, which was a blessing, especially considering how terrified Bokuto looked.

Akaashi frowned. Suddenly, he didn’t feel quite so happy anymore. Instead he felt sad. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, mimicking Bokuto. He threw his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, hugging him from behind and almost knocking him off his feet. “I’m sorry you’re not getting any positive attention. I’m sorry you’re having a hard time, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” He squeezed Bokuto so tight that his boyfriend’s feet lifted off the ground.

Bokuto laughed, pulling out of his dejected mode. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he said, wiggling out of Akaashi’s grasp. He turned to stare at him and squish his cheeks together. “I’m just happy _you’re_ getting some positive attention. You deserve it!”

Akaashi frowned, despite the weird way Bokuto was holding his face. “Why?”

“Because I _love_ you!”

Akaashi couldn’t help but smile. Bokuto did love him; he loved him so much. And Akaashi loved him right back. They loved each other; they were in _love_. Akaashi loved Bokuto. “I love you, too,” he voiced aloud. “I’m gonna send you so many tosses, and you’re going to get them, you’ll see.”

Akaashi got into position as the next serve flew up in the air. He tossed to Bokuto, but it was too fast again, and Bokuto missed it.

Akaashi tossed again, and Bokuto missed again.

Bokuto kept missing, and missing, and missing, but Akaashi didn’t change his tossing to suit his boyfriend’s needs. He wasn’t sure, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t reached the peak of his high yet. He felt warmer and cheerier than he did even minutes before. It was making it hard to pay attention to anything. He sort of felt dizzy, like he might fall over, but that didn’t scare him. The ground was probably soft, it probably would wrap around him and snuggle him like Akaashi’s bed would at home.

What was going on again? What was he supposed to be doing?

“Hey, Akaashi!” Kuroo snapped, getting Akaashi to focus on him. Akaashi blinked back in surprise. Where did Kuroo come from? Had he been playing in this game the whole time? “How about you throw some tosses your friends can actually spike, huh? Get it together.”

“What?”

“Don’t give me that. You’re a good setter. Act like it,” Kuroo reprimanded.

Akaashi sighed. That sounded like a lot of effort. He liked how he was playing now. He was fast like this, and Coach Inoue was proud of him for it. Kuroo wasn’t a setter; he didn’t know how things were supposed to be done. It was up to Akaashi how he wanted to toss. He was the playmaker.

Frankly, Akaashi was too high to care about what Bokuto wanted. He hummed to himself as he continued throwing quick tosses, although this time, he sent them to just about everyone else on the court but his boyfriend. Bokuto probably wouldn’t want to be tossed to anyway; he looked too sad.

* * *

“Hey, hey, hey!”

Akaashi tensed at the register. He didn’t look up. Maybe, if he kept his head down, Bokuto wouldn’t come talk to him. He stayed bent over his cash drawer, unrolling some single yen so he could make change.

“Keiji, I’m here to say hello! Look!” Bokuto said, not giving up. Akaashi didn’t know why he thought he might. Bokuto had always been persistent, especially when it came to getting Akaashi’s attention.

He closed his cash drawer and looked up at Bokuto. “You _are_ here,” he acknowledged, feeling awkward. “Why?”

“Because I love you!” Bokuto replied.

Akaashi bit his bottom lip. Lately those words have been making him feel sick. He loved Bokuto, too (of course he did), but he had treated him _so terribly_. He had used way too much coke before practice. Snorting that much had left him too far gone to function, and Bokuto had been the one to pay the price.

Plus, using drugs without telling Bokuto didn’t sit right with Akaashi. He had told himself he was using them for Bokuto’s benefit, but knowing Bokuto, he would probably pick a sad and healthy Akaashi over a happy and sick one. Bokuto hated when Akaashi had a cold or the stomach flu. He would probably be distraught if Akaashi developed an addiction to cocaine.

Akaashi took a shaky breath. “I love you, too, Koutarou,” he promised. “I’m glad you came.”

“You are?”

“Of course.”

“You didn’t seem it at first.”

“I’m just really tired,” Akaashi explained. “But of course I’m happy you’re here. I’m always happy when you’re around. You’re my most important person.”

“ _Most_ important?” Bokuto asked, jumping up and down in excitement. “Like out of everyone and everything? Even more than your mom and dad? Even more than anyone on the team?”

Akaashi snorted, trying to ignore his anxiety and focus on Bokuto. “Of course, goofball.” He glanced down at the basket in his boyfriend’s hands. “What do you have there?”

Bokuto’s eyes widened as he remembered his purchases, and he quickly started putting them on the conveyor belt. “Oh, just some things,” he said casually. Akaashi arched an eyebrow. He had known Bokuto much too long. He never made it through a transaction without buying something weird or unhealthy.

“We’ll see about that,” Akaashi muttered under his breath. He scanned some strawberries, some toilet paper, a watermelon, and- “Bokuto, put these back,” he said, passing Bokuto the industrial sized box of frozen mochi he was trying to buy.

“But they’re _yummy._ ”

“But they won’t fit in our _freezer_ ,” Akaashi argued. “I love you, I do, but don’t be silly.”

“Wah, Keiji! You never let me buy anything good!”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “See, you say that, but I’m pretty sure our pantry is _constantly_ full of cookies and pretzels. And I’m also pretty sure that we had crepes for breakfast before class this morning. You should still be full of whipped cream right now; that’s definitely something good.”

“But I want _these_. These are better!” Bokuto said with an impressive pout.

Akaashi sighed. He reached out and put his hand on the back of Bokuto’s neck. “Come here. I’ll give you something sweeter than mochi,” he teased, pulling Bokuto closer. He pressed a kiss to Bokuto’s lips.

Bokuto pulled away giggling. “Keiji, you’re so corny!” he complained. However, his flushed cheeks and cute smile told Akaashi that he was anything but annoyed. But per usual, Bokuto’s happy grin turned into a frown fast enough to give Akaashi whiplash. “Are you sure you’re happy I’m here?”

Akaashi nodded. “Positive,” he said, giving Bokuto one of his most encouraging smiles; although, honestly, Akaashi felt like crying. He wanted Bokuto to feel confident when they were together, but clearly Akaashi was making him feel insecure.

His heart felt like it was lodged in his throat, he was so anxious. Why couldn’t he just make Bokuto happy?

“Are you sure you’re sure?”

“Yes, Bokuto, I _love_ you. I’m sure I’m sure.”

“But are you really, _really_ sure?” Bokuto asked, a cute little crease between his eyebrows. Akaashi used his thumb to smooth it out, frowning.

“Bokuto, there’s nothing I’m more sure about than you, okay? Please stop worrying,” he said quietly. People were starting to line up in Akaashi’s queue, but he didn’t care. Right now, Bokuto held all of his attention.

“Okay,” Bokuto said, his voice turning all tiny and adorable. He sounded so uncertain. Meanwhile, Akaashi was so unbelievably fond of Bokuto that it was all he could do to keep from pulling him into another kiss.

“Okay,” Akaashi copied, reaching out to grab Bokuto’s face gently in his hands. “Come here, one more kiss. I need a little more Bokuto in my day,” he begged. Akaashi laughed as Bokuto peppered him with kisses all over his nose, cheeks, and forehead. “Okay, okay! That’s enough! You need to put these mochi back, and I need to help these customers.”

“But I’m happy kissing you!”

Akaashi peeled himself away from Bokuto. “Don’t worry, we’ll kiss lots and lots later. I just have to work a little bit first, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Akaashi said again. He smacked Bokuto’s butt as he left his line and watched him as he walked away. His heartbeat was racing out of control, and Akaashi had to keep himself from throwing up on his shoes as he put Bokuto’s things off to the side. Every time Bokuto left the guilt was crippling.

Akaashi didn’t know what he was doing wrong. All he knew was that he was a bad boyfriend, and that had to change fast.

* * *

Akaashi’s mother screamed into the phone. “Akaashi, why can’t you just pull it together? Your whole life you’ve been saying, ‘I’ll get my grades up. I’ll get my grades up.’ But you never do! It’s almost like you keep failing just to spite us; I can’t believe you’re actually this stupid. I raised you smarter than this!”

Akaashi curled up a little tighter on the couch. Bokuto was in the bedroom, and Kuroo was out. Akaashi didn’t want anyone to know he was talking to his parents. He was hiding under a blanket so that his roommates wouldn’t be able to see his tears if they came into the living room.

“I’m sorry, mom,” he apologized. There was no point arguing. Any time his mom started yelling, it was best just to sit back and take it. Akaashi had just gotten done with a never-ending lecture from his dad, he was anxious to get this screaming session with his mom over with as soon as possible.

“You have a _scholarship_ , Akaashi. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? If you fail out of school, that’s it. You’re done. You won’t have an education, you’ll basically be unemployable, you’ll be stuck at that cashier job for the rest of your life... It’s like you’re _trying_ to throw away your future. I don’t know why you always self-sabotage like this. Don’t you want what’s best for yourself? Don’t you want to be happy?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Well then why don’t you _act like it?_ Take the time to study. Put effort into your schoolwork, quit wasting your time. Your father and I didn’t spend the money to get you into a nice high school like Fukurodani just to fail!”

“Mom, okay, just-“ Akaashi pinched the bridge of his nose, choking on tears. “I can’t... I can’t...” He had a B in two out of four classes. He wasn’t failing by any means, but how was he supposed to argue? He choked on a sob, and the blanket he was hiding under was ripped off of him. He blinked in surprise as he was exposed. “I’m just... I have to call you back,” he told his mom.

Akaashi hung up before his mom could yell at him for cutting her off. He did feel guilty about abruptly ending their call –a good son wouldn’t do that- but mostly he felt guilty for a thousand other reasons.

He looked up at Bokuto, who was standing above him with his blanket in his hands. “You were talking to your _mom?_ ” Bokuto asked. He sounded nervous. Akaashi could understand why, his mother had either insulted or yelled at Bokuto every time she had met him.

Akaashi nodded. He opened his mouth to explain what they had been talking about, but before he could, his face crumbled. A sob wracked through Akaashi’s slender frame. He buried his face in his hands, and Bokuto jumped over the back of the couch to sit and pull Akaashi into his lap.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay,” Bokuto promised. Akaashi just cried harder while Bokuto rubbed his back. “Don’t cry, I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“I’m _not_. I’m so _stupid_. I need straight As.”

Bokuto pressed a kiss to his temple. “No, you don’t. And you’re not stupid; you _know_ you’re not. You’re doing really great in school Akaashi, especially for your first semester. College is such a hard transition, and you’ve been doing such a good job.”

Akaashi couldn’t answer right away. Instead he cried, and cried, and cried. His shoulders shook so hard it hurt, but Bokuto didn’t seem scared. He just nuzzled his nose against Akaashi’s cheek and kissed the corner of his jaw until he calmed down.

“But... But Bokuto,” Akaashi eventually stammered out. He thumbed away the tears from his eyes. “I’m _not_ doing a good job transitioning,” he said. He really wasn’t. He spent all his time lying in bed and hating himself. He was resorting to drugs to take the edge off. He couldn’t function without Bokuto standing next to him, and even when they were together, Akaashi still felt sick.

He was turning their relationship into something sick and unhealthy. He was turning his life into a waste and his body into an exhausted heap of limbs. He was so useless. How could Bokuto say he was transitioning well?

“Yes, you are. You’ve been keeping your grades up. You’ve been going to class, and to practice, and to work... You’re getting it all done, even when I know you don’t feel good. That’s incredible.”

“I’m a _mess_ ,” Akaashi wept, forcing his face into the crook of Bokuto’s neck. Bokuto let him settle in before reaching up to card his fingers through Akaashi’s hair.

“You’re not a mess. You’re doing good.”

Akaashi shuddered in Bokuto’s arms, but he didn’t say anything. Bokuto was too good to him. All Akaashi did was let him down, but here he was, comforting Akaashi mid-panic attack. He didn’t _deserve_ this. He didn’t deserve _any_ of this.

* * *

Akaashi felt like  _shit_ . This going on and off drugs thing was seriously fucking with his brain. He had constant headaches; he was always tired... Plus, if his nose wasn’t running, it was bleeding, and he was starting to worry that it was making things obvious.

At least he knew how much to use now. He could snort just enough to make it through a volleyball practice or get up in the morning. The manic energy he’d carry around afterwards could give him away, but it wasn’t anything like his first time using.

Still, Akaashi wasn’t sure it was worth how crappy he felt without it.

“Dude, are you okay? You look half dead,” Daichi said, poking him with a pencil. They had gotten a study room in the library so they could talk while they worked, but it had been an hour since either of them had spoken and at least a half hour since Akaashi lifted his head from the desk.

“Ugh, no. I feel terrible. _Life_ is terrible,” Akaashi replied.

Akaashi could see Daichi close his notebook out of the corner of his eye. He was still face down on the table, but he didn’t need to look up to know that Daichi was giving him one of his patented ‘dad’ looks. He was too caring for his own good. “Why? What’s going on?”

Akaashi huffed out a sigh. “Ugh, I don’t know... It’s complicated.” He couldn’t say what was actually going on, not to Daichi anyway. Daichi was the most innocent person he knew, other than Bokuto. “It’s mostly relationship stuff.”

“Hm. I know how that is,” Daichi said. Akaashi looked up to see him absentmindedly fondling his cellphone. “My boyfriend is two regions away right now.”

Akaashi winced. “Daichi-san, no offense, but I don’t think you know what relationship problems are,” he said. Akaashi had met Sugawara. He was just as sweet as Daichi was. Plus, Daichi was always passing his phone around the locker room to show everyone the thoughtful, adorable texts Suga sent him. Their relationship was perfect. Akaashi’s relationship was built on insecurity and cocaine.

Daichi frowned. “Bokuto doesn’t really seem the type to make things hard on anyone.” It wasn’t a question, but it demanded an answer.

Akaashi groaned. “It’s not his fault, it’s mine,” he replied. He scrubbed at his face for a second. He was so _tired_. “It’s just... he’s so affectionate. He’s constantly doting on me, and talking to me, and coming to me with all of his needs, and telling me he loves me, and that all _used_ to be so great. But lately... Lately all it does is make me feel guilty.”

“Guilty?” Daichi asked.

“Yeah.” There was no reason for Akaashi to tell anyone _any_ of this, but for some reason, he felt like Daichi was safe to talk to. Plus, if he didn’t get at least some of this off his chest, he was going to overdose just to end the constant guilt. “I just... I can’t... I can’t take care of him the way he takes care of me.”

Daichi’s frown only deepened. “Well... Akaashi, it’s not like you two have to do all of the same things for each other. Relationships are supposed to be mutual, but your actions don’t have to be an exact mirror image.”

“You don’t get it,” Akaashi said, his voice tightening up. He felt like crying. “I can’t take care of him at _all_. It’s... It’s too hard. I’m so tired, and I’m so... _anxious._ Like, _all_ of the time. I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t _talk to my boyfriend_. He shouldn’t be wasting so much of his time and effort on me.”

Daichi hummed. There was a moment of silence where Akaashi rocked himself back and forth to stay calm, while Daichi stared at him critically. “You know... My good friend from high school suffered from anxiety, and he felt _awful_ about how it affected his boyfriend, Nishinoya. You know him, our libero?” he clarified. Akaashi nodded and wiped his nose off on his shoulder. “Right, well, my friend –Asahi- was really open with Noya about how he felt, and Noya was quick to reassure him that he didn’t mind taking care of him, that he’d be there until he was back on his feet.”

“You don’t get it,” Akaashi repeated, not really looking at Daichi. He was more staring at a spot in the air in front of Daichi as he thought about how insecure Bokuto could be. He was so fragile. Just about everything confused him, and he was so earnestly and genuinely in love with Akaashi. “I’m supposed to be taking care of Bokuto, not the other way around. Bokuto needs me.”

Daichi laughed weakly. “Aha, I suppose that’s true. Bokuto can be... challenging.”

Akaashi snorted. “You don’t know how ‘challenging’ Bokuto can be until you try to get him to do laundry. I’m convinced he’s going to overfill the washing machine and flood the apartment,” he said. He tried to smile, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Daichi _actually_ managed a grin. “That sounds like him,” he replied. “... But Akaashi, maybe you should talk to Bokuto like Asahi talked to Noya. Because I think that Bokuto would be able to reassure you better than I can, you know? I don’t think he would mind if you needed to be taken care of for a change.”

Akaashi grunted. He flipped open his math textbook. “No, what I _should_ do is try to get some math homework done,” he replied, blowing Daichi off. “Differential equations don’t solve themselves.”

Daichi laughed lightly, but Akaashi could hear how concerned he was. He ducked his head a little lower into his textbook.

* * *

Akaashi sniffed a little as the ball left his fingertips faster than ever. He felt really,  _really_ good. His whole stomach was warm, and his head was light, and for once, he didn’t feel like collapsing from exhaustion.

“I may have had too much!” Akaashi sang, and Bokuto looked over at him after having missed yet another spike.

“What?”

Akaashi laughed. “Nothing, nothing, don’t worry about it,” he said playfully. He was being too transparent. A sober Akaashi would never act like this, but when Akaashi was _this_ faded, there was no bouncing back.

Another set flew by –everything in Akaashi’s vision was blurred to the point where minutes passing by seemed like the same moment- and Akaashi sent another speedy toss in Bokuto’s direction.

Bokuto, for all his skill, wasn’t able to even touch it. Fortunately, Iwaizumi seemed to be waiting for Akaashi to toss to hard and fast because he managed to be in position to spike it for Bokuto.

“You know, Akaashi,” Oikawa said from the other side of the net. “Usually you’re more submissive with your tosses, but lately you’ve been so aggressive...” Oikawa put his hands over his heart and blinked back tears. “You remind me of my darling kouhai, Tobio-chan.”

Akaashi laughed, and a spare volleyball whizzed through the air into the back of Oikawa’s head. “Shitty-kawa, he’s _my_ kouhai, not yours,” Daichi demanded.

Oikawa pouted and rubbed the spot where the volleyball hit him. “No fair. Only Iwaizumi’s allowed to do things like that,” he complained.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. (Akaashi only laughed harder. Everything was just so _funny_ today.) “Fine,” he said, grabbing a volleyball from the ball cart and throwing it under the net at Oikawa’s hip. “Shittykawa, stop obsessing over Kageyama; it’s been five years.”

Oikawa wailed indignantly. “I was speaking of my Tobio-chan _fondly_. He is a grown man, now, and I am _proud_ of him.”

“ _Liar_ ,” Daichi and Iwaizumi said at the same time.

Akaashi was still giggling. He couldn’t pull himself together; he just found everything so hilarious. Even Iwaizumi’s angry face was funny, and usually that was intimidating. His laughter was interrupted, however, when their coach yelled at them from the sidelines. “How about instead of talking, we play another set?!” their coach demanded. He was always so _angry_ during scrimmages. “Akaashi, take this seriously! Bokuto, try to make contact with the ball! And everyone, _quit slacking off!”_

Everyone seemed to sober up pretty quickly after their coach yelled at them. Everyone but Akaashi, that is.

He sent another couple of too fast tosses in Bokuto’s direction, and honestly, it was the _funniest thing_ to see him land after each failed spike. He just looked so _sad._ One of the things that endeared Akaashi to Bokuto back in high school was how adorable his little frowny face was. Right now, it was making Akaashi giggle. “Oh, Bokuto... So cute, angel, so cute,” he cooed, laughing the whole time.

Bokuto’s frown only deepened, and Akaashi snorted loudly at him.

“Get it together, Bokuto!” their coach yelled again from the sidelines. Akaashi made a whining noise. He _hated_ when their coach yelled at Bokuto. However, in the next set, he still sent a toss towards Bokuto that there was no way his boyfriend could hit. Their coach made a disgruntled noise. “You know what? Bokuto, sit out. Where is Kai Nobuyuki, get him in this game instead.”

Kai stood up from the bench abruptly, stripping out of his track pants and team jacket as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, Bokuto seemed to wilt as he took his place on the bench. Akaashi giggled at how antsy he looked on the sidelines.

Practice went by smoothly, other than Akaashi’s terrible tosses. The coach seemed to like how fast he was going, but Akaashi knew that his setting was wonky. He wasn’t properly pacing anything, and everyone on his team was failing to keep up. Watari had set from the back line multiple times just to give their team a shot at winning.

When the game was over, Akaashi knew he hadn’t done well, but he was still in much too good a mood to shower and change out of his practice clothes. Instead, he chose to do a couple oddly-shaped laps around the gym to use up some of the manic energy he had.

His buzz was starting to fade. He could feel it leaving his system as he ran around in loops. His highs used to last longer. Akaashi used to feel it for three hours after it kicked in, but now it was more like two and a half. If practice were any longer, Akaashi didn’t know how he would manage to make it through.

Akaashi gave up running. He stumbled into the locker room, finding it empty, except for-

“Bokuto! Kuroo!” he exclaimed. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo said sharply. His eyes were narrow, but his glare went completely over Akaashi’s head.

Akaashi frowned as he noticed Bokuto’s posture. He was slumped over and avoiding eye contact. It was weird that they were here so late; Akaashi would have thought he would be the last one at the gym. And they were both so sweaty, like they hadn’t moved since entering the locker room ahead of him. He squinted at Bokuto. “Hey, wait, is Bokuto crying?”

Bokuto shook his head and frantically wiped at his cheeks. Kuroo put a possessive hand on the back of Bokuto’s neck. “You know what, Akaashi? Why don’t you just go shower?” he asked bitingly. Akaashi hid a smile behind his hand. Kuroo was so goofy when he was mad.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. He practically skipped to the shower. His legs didn’t feel tired at all, even after running around for such a long time. He felt like he could remember lying down and looking up at the gym lights for a while, but he couldn’t be sure. Akaashi was never sure of anything when he felt like this.

He took his sweet time in the shower. The bubbles from his shampoo were hypnotizing, and Akaashi stared with his jaw dropped open as they floated down the drain. He tried to keep track of how many times he washed his hair, but each time he got to three, he lost count. Eventually, he ran out of shampoo, and he threw the empty bottle across the showers.

Akaashi started to come to his senses a little bit as he stayed under the spray. _Holy fuck._ He was such a mess; usually he had it more under control than this.

When Akaashi finally managed to get out of the shower and into some clothes, he found Kuroo waiting for him. Bokuto was missing, and honestly, Akaashi was glad for it. Bokuto didn’t need to see him like this any more than necessary. “Hey,” Akaashi said tentatively, giving Kuroo a half wave.

Kuroo crossed his arms. “You’re an idiot.”

Akaashi turned his head away. He had expected Kuroo to yell at him, but he hadn’t expected him to jump right into it. “Um, okay... Fair enough, I guess.”

“You’re fucking _right_ it’s ‘fair enough.’ You of _all people_ know how sensitive Bokuto is.” Kuroo sounded furious. He walked over to Akaashi just to shove him. “The last thing he needed when Coach was singling him out again was you fucking _laughing at him_ ,” Kuroo pointed out.

Akaashi frowned. He didn’t really remember laughing.

Kuroo, meanwhile, was on a roll. “No one means more to Bokuto than you. You’re... you’re supposed to _cherish_ that. You’re supposed to take that seriously and protect him and his big fucking heart, not laugh at him and throw him tosses you _know_ he can’t hit. God... You’ve been such a dick lately, Keiji, what’s wrong with you?”

Akaashi pressed his palms into his eyes until he saw stars. “I don’t know,” he answered weakly. Kuroo was right. He was voicing aloud everything Akaashi had been thinking for weeks. He wasn’t treating Bokuto correctly; he wasn’t taking care of him or taking their relationship seriously.

His shoulders started to shake as he held back tears. A hiccup escaped his lips, and Kuroo seemed to take pity on him. “Look...” Kuroo said, putting a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder. “I know you haven’t been feeling good. You don’t talk to me like you talk to Bokuto, but it’s not like we don’t we live together. I’ve seen how tired you are and how you don’t get out of bed. I get it. But you can’t drag Bokuto down with you. You have to let him be happy.”

Akaashi squeaked, doing his best to hold back tears. He nodded his head in agreement.

“So you’ll apologize to Bo when you get home?”

Akaashi nodded again.

Kuroo sighed. “Okay... I love you, Akaashi. If you ever wanna talk about what’s going on in your head, I’m here to listen,” he promised. He punched Akaashi’s shoulder a second later. “Now get your stuff so you can grovel to Bokuto. Lord knows he needs an explanation for how you treated him at practice today.”

Akaashi sniffled and managed to pull himself together. He grabbed his gym bag and locked up his deodorant and volleyball sneakers up in his locker. He had some apologizing to do, even if he couldn’t remember exactly what happened. It didn’t matter. If he hurt Bokuto in any way, he was going to say sorry.

* * *

Normally when Bokuto was upset, he either flung himself onto their bed or stared broodingly out over the ledge of the balcony. However, he wasn’t in either of his usual places when Akaashi and Kuroo got home.

Kuroo looked to Akaashi, brow furrowed, but Akaashi wasn’t too nervous. He walked over to the closed bathroom door and pressed his ear against the wood. He could hear the sound of the shower running on the other side. Akaashi sighed. “All right,” he said, putting his hand on the doorknob. “Wish me luck,” he told Kuroo.

Kuroo frowned but shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “Whatever, man. Just don’t fuck this up,” he replied. Akaashi’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance, and he slipped into the bathroom without another word.

The room had maybe the same square footage as a kiddie pool, and Bokuto’s shower had managed to pack every cubic inch of it with steam. Akaashi coughed a little. He was already having enough trouble getting air into his lungs without the sauna-like bathroom making it any harder.

Once he managed to get a good breath of air, Akaashi stripped out of his clothes. He slipped into the shower behind his boyfriend.

Bokuto _screamed._

“Ah! Keiji! You scared me!” he yelped, but Akaashi was hardly listening. Just seeing Bokuto was enough to make his stomach twist itself in knots. Kuroo was right. He should be _cherishing_ Bokuto; he should be looking out for him. But instead, he spent all of his time either too high or too depressed to pay attention to him.

Akaashi’s arms snaked around Bokuto’s waist from behind. “Sorry,” he apologized. He was quiet for a moment, his nose and mouth pressed up against Bokuto’s shoulder. “For scaring you, that is. I... I owe you a much better apology for what happened earlier in the gym. I was way out of line.”

Bokuto tensed in his arms. Akaashi squeezed his eyes shut, ready for Bokuto to either yell at him or start crying. However, Bokuto didn’t do either of those things.

Instead he was quiet.

Bokuto was almost never quiet.

“... You were _mean_ , Akaashi,” Bokuto pouted. Akaashi hummed and turned Bokuto around in his arms. He cooed as Bokuto hunched over him. He was such a big person. He dwarfed Akaashi when he held onto him like this, but he was so small inside. Akaashi had always been endeared by Bokuto’s dejected mode; although, he hated to be the cause of it.

“I _was_ mean,” he admitted, taking Bokuto’s word for it. “I’m so sorry, angel. I am. I don’t know what got into me.”

Except Akaashi _did_ know what had gotten into him: over an eighth of a gram of cocaine. He could only hope that Bokuto would accept his apology without an explanation. Telling him the truth would only hurt him.

“I don’t like it when you laugh at me,” Bokuto said. He was so _quiet._ Akaashi could barely hear him over the spray of the shower.

“I don’t like it when I laugh at you either,” Akaashi promised. He let his fingers trail up and down Bokuto’s spine, ignoring the water splashing in his face. Holding Bokuto was much more important. “Koutarou... You don’t know how sorry I am, okay? I am _so, so, so_ sorry.” His voice broke, but Akaashi didn’t stop talking. “You mean so much to me, and I treated you like you were unimportant. But you’re the _most_ important, Kou, remember? You’re my most important person.”

“I remember...” Bokuto said. He stopped hiding his face in the crook of Akaashi’s neck only to rebury it between Akaashi’s arm and his ribcage. Akaashi let him do it, still rubbing his back just as caringly as before. “But you didn’t make me feel that way earlier! You made me feel _bad!_ I hate it when you make me feel bad, Keiji, because I love you more than anyone!” he yelped.

“I’m sure,” Akaashi agreed. “I’m so sorry I made you feel bad.”

“You made me feel _gross!”_

“I know, and it was terrible of me,” Akaashi said. Bokuto made a whining noise.

“You _and_ coach were mean to me, and it wasn’t any fun at all! Coach is allowed to be mean, but you’re supposed to be nice!”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Bokuto pulled away and glared at him. “Keiji, can’t you just keep being mean long enough for me to yell at you?” he asked, his frown more exaggerated than usual. Akaashi sighed, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss against Bokuto’s lips. He ignored the water spraying in his face, trying to be as gentle as possible with Bokuto.

He nosed Bokuto’s cheek as he pulled away. “I think it’s about time that I start being _nice_ , Bokuto-san,” he said, reaching up to card Bokuto’s loose hair away from his face. Bokuto’s eyes widened, his mouth dropped open a little. Akaashi took the opportunity to lean in and kiss his boyfriend again.

For a moment, Bokuto was stiff beneath him. But he had always melted quickly when it came to Akaashi, and within a few seconds he was completely pliable. Akaashi pressed him up against the shower tiles.

There wasn’t much to say about what had happened in the gym. Akaashi was a jerk, and he took full ownership of that. So while Akaashi wasn’t one to use sex as a way to weasel out of arguments, he figured that just this once, taking advantage of how easily distracted Bokuto was could benefit their relationship

Bokuto whined as Akaashi’s hand dropped between his thighs. He rubbed this thumb lightly across the inside of his leg, and Bokuto squeaked.

Akaashi hummed in acknowledgement, refusing to remove his lips from Bokuto’s. He knew just what Bokuto liked; he didn’t need a reminder. His hand moved from just resting on Bokuto’s leg to lightly cupping his balls. He gently squeezed them together.

Bokuto pulled away from Akaashi’s to bite his own lip. “Keiji,” he said. He sounded uncertain.

Akaashi kissed his cheek. “Do you not want me to—“

“No!” Bokuto yelped. “No, I do. I just... You’re _good_ at this.”

Akaashi blinked. Bokuto looked so wide-eyed and earnest. A tiny smile crept onto Akaashi’s mouth. “Then just enjoy it, okay?” he said. He kissed Bokuto’s cheek again and reached for Kuroo’s bottle of conditioner. He pumped some out to lube up his hand before pulling at Bokuto’s cock: his grip far less gentle.

Akaashi knew Bokuto’s preferences well by now. He liked Akaashi to be delicate with him just about everywhere, and Akaashi barely let his lips brush against the skin of Bokuto’s neck as he kissed him. However, he usually welcomed a bit more pressure when it came to hand jobs.

“Keiji,” Bokuto whined as Akaashi’s hand moved up and down. “ _Keiji.”_

“Yeah?”

“D-Do the _thing_.”

Akaashi grunted in agreement and pressed a firm kiss to the side of Bokuto’s mouth. He kept one hand tugging on Bokuto’s cock, but he used the other to encircle the head.

Akaashi was always so _careful_ when he handled Bokuto.

He had always seen Bokuto as something fragile, something delicate. And when he was like this –flushed pink from steam and arousal with his hair falling into his eyes- Akaashi felt like he needed to be cautious as possible. Because Bokuto looked gorgeous like this and Akaashi cared _so much._ He couldn’t hurt him; he couldn’t mess up.

Akaashi stood up on his tiptoes, resting his forehead on the wall above Bokuto’s shoulder to get better leverage. He pumped him harder as Bokuto’s hips arched up into his touch. They were so close: Akaashi couldn’t tell what was hotter, the water beating down his back or Bokuto’s skin.

Despite how hard Bokuto tried, he was usually a pretty fast releaser, what with how excitable he always was. Even when Akaashi took him from zero to sixty, he was always on board.

Akaashi felt Bokuto shake beneath him.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Bokuto squeaked as he came all over Akaashi’s leg. His knees wobbled and Akaashi put his hands under Bokuto’s arms to keep him upright. He blinked owlishly a couple times, taking everything in while Akaashi waited patiently. Bokuto winced. “You’re all messy. I’m sorry.”

“Koutarou, we’re in the shower,” Akaashi reminded him. “Plus, I’m still supposed to be apologizing to you.” He kissed Bokuto through his hair. “I’m just happy I could make _you_ happy instead of sad.”

Bokuto frowned before a dopey smile stretched over his face. “Keiji, you _love_ me,” he said. He sounded like he was bragging.

“Yes, goofball, of course I love you,” he replied, washing off his leg before moving Bokuto to shampoo his hair. Akaashi’s face fell a little. “I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise today.”

“Keiji, you _love_ me.”

Akaashi frowned, but snorted after a moment. A fond smile overtook his features. “I do,” he replied, styling Bokuto’s hair up into a mohawk. “I love you so much.”

* * *

Akaashi bit back a groan at the cash register. He was achy everywhere. It was becoming a regular thing for him to go to work after practice and deal with the brutal comedowns he experienced after using cocaine.

But just because it was typical, that didn’t mean he _liked_ it.

Akaashi felt _awful_. When he didn’t have to do anything after using, he usually felt okay. However, when he had to work or be productive, he couldn’t help but feel tired, and anxious, and depressed, and awful, and _sad,_ and terrified, and—

Honestly, Akaashi didn’t know how he was standing right now. It felt like he was coming down with the flu, but he knew that was just a side effect to the drugs. He also felt panicky. He had a huge test coming up, but he knew he would do poorly. He had barely studied, and the thought of failing terrified him.

He needed a hit. He couldn’t take standing at the register sober. Every person that came to check out would smile at him and ask him about his day. Couldn’t they understand that Akaashi felt like dying? He couldn’t _take this anymore._

A prime opportunity came when Akaashi’s manager left the store to help a lady who had dropped her eggs on the sidewalk.

Quick as could be, Akaashi closed his register and ran off to the break room. He unearthed his stash from his backpack, and made fast work of forming two lines on top of the staff’s microwave with his store nametag. (One line had stopped being enough weeks ago.)

Akaashi came out of the break room snorting and sniffing as he tried to keep from sneezing. He had recently read that injection was a far more efficient way to use coke. Maybe changing methods would stop him from getting nosebleeds.

It usually took Akaashi a good half hour to start feeling the effects of each self-administered dose. The thirty minutes before his high kicked in were always the worst. He sat at his register, scanning toilet paper and chicken breasts as guilt wedged itself further and further into his chest.

He shouldn’t be doing this. Things were getting way out of control. He was at _work_. When had this stopped being a thing he did for volleyball and started being a thing he did just to make it through the day?

How was he supposed to count change when he was high?

The purpose behind Akaashi’s sniffling changed as he tried to hold back tears. He was such a _disaster._ This secret was getting out of hand. It was only a matter of time before he faced the consequences.

* * *

Akaashi was lying on the couch, giggling at his test results. He had  _failed_ . He had failed so badly that his professor had told him to drop his course so he wouldn’t get an F on his transcript. Akaashi was throwing away his future.

And it was _hilarious_.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto cheered as he walked in the door to their apartment. He smiled when he saw Akaashi laughing. “What’s so funny?” he asked, leaving their apartment door open and rushing over to Akaashi.

Fortunately, Kuroo walked in a second later to close it. He sat at the kitchen table on his phone –probably texting Kenma- as Bokuto all but bounced on top of Akaashi.

“Look!” Akaashi squealed, passing Bokuto his test. He had gotten high the morning before his exam –he had been so anxious, he had needed something to calm him down- and he was still buzzing by his afternoon class. When he’d gotten the test back today, he figured if coke could make him feel relaxed _before_ his exam, then coke could definitely make him feel relaxed after flunking it.

Bokuto took the paper excitedly, but he didn’t seem to find it funny like Akaashi did. Akaashi poked his cheek.

“Hey, c’mon. Laugh!”

Bokuto gripped the paper so hard, it crumpled in his hands. “It’s not funny,” he replied, looked up at Akaashi. He seemed terrified, but Akaashi couldn’t figure out why. “Keiji... You were doing well in this class, but now you’re not. What happened? What about your scholarship?”

Akaashi blinked before his whole face lit up with laughter. He had forgotten all about his scholarship! He pressed his face into the couch cushions as he giggled.

Bokuto grabbed his shoulders. “Hey, stop laughing! Keiji, this is serious! What if you fail out? What if you have to move back home? I don’t want to be long distance again! That was awful, I want you to be with me, and I want you to go to school! You worked so hard.”

Akaashi hummed, a little more sing-songy than usual. He pushed Bokuto’s hands away from him and sprawled out further on the couch, happy as a clam. He ignored Kuroo’s calculating stare from across the room, and he ignored how fearful Bokuto seemed. Instead, he snuggled up to the couch cushions with a big smile on his face.

Bokuto made a whining nose. “Keiji! Why aren’t you worried?!”

“There’s nothing to be worried about, I don’t care about anything!” Akaashi promised. “Why are you so stressed?”

Bokuto’s bottom lip wobbled and he stood up so fast, Akaashi didn’t get to see it happen. One second he was sitting, the next he was up on two feet. “Because I love you, Akaashi!” he shouted, his eyes clenched up tight. Akaashi frowned as Bokuto ran away out through the apartment door. Akaashi pouted. He had just come home.

Kuroo gave Akaashi a confused look over his shoulder before running out after Bokuto. Akaashi frowned. Everyone seemed to know too much, but no one knew _enough_ , either.

Akaashi stopped caring after a moment and flipped on the TV.

* * *

Daichi, oddly enough, was the one to confront Akaashi first.

It was just before practice. Akaashi always came in first. He had to get high before anyone could catch him. However, Daichi was usually a fast second. Today, he was almost as early as Akaashi, and apparently for good reason.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” Daichi asked, putting his hand on Akaashi’s arm the second he walked out of the bathroom.

Akaashi frowned. “Um... Okay.” He didn’t like how serious he sounded. Daichi was almost as observant as Kuroo, but somehow he had never managed to catch Akaashi doubled over one of the sinks.

Akaashi had figured it was only a matter of time before his luck ran out, and he was right.

“So... So, sit down, how about?” Daichi started, gesturing to one of the benches on the far side of the locker room.

Akaashi squirmed. “I’d rather not.”

Daichi sighed. “Okay, well... Listen, Akaashi. I’ve noticed that lately during practice, you don’t seem like yourself. I used to just think you were in a good mood or something, but lately... Well...” Daichi reached out and rubbed the tip of Akaashi’s nose.

When he pulled his thumb away, white powder clung to the pad of his finger, and Akaashi’s shoulder blades locked together. Fuck. “Daichi, don’t worry about it, okay? I have a handle on it.”

“But you _don’t_ have a handle on it,” Daichi corrected. “Not only is your volleyball suffering –your tosses are inconsistent and ill-paced- but it seems like everything else is, too. You seem exhausted, you look gaunt... We used to see each other at the library every other day, but I haven’t seen you there in ages. Plus, I know that Bokuto-“

“ _Don’t_ ,” Akaashi said, cutting Daichi off. “Don’t bring him into this.”

Daichi sighed and ran a hand over his short, cropped hair. “It doesn’t work that way, Akaashi. This is going to hurt him.”

Akaashi blinked a couple times, his nose crinkling up. Suddenly, anger washed over him, and his hands turned to fists at his side. He glared at Daichi. “Excuse me?” he asked. “Who fucking _cares?”_

“What?”

“I said, ‘ _Who. Fucking. Cares?’”_ Akaashi reached his hands up to pull at his own messy curls. “God, it’s all about Bokuto this, Bokuto that... Doesn’t any one care about _me?_ How about the fact that I’m fucking my own life up, ever thought of that?”

Daichi frowned. “Yes, Akaashi, of _course_. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You’re _hurting_ yourself.”

Akaashi scoffed. “But you don’t care. You only care that I’m hurting Bokuto because he fucking matters and I fucking don’t.”

Daichi looked panicked. He reached out to put a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder. “Akaashi, that’s not-“

“Don’t _touch_ me,” Akaashi demanded, shaking off Daichi’s hand. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, making sure there wasn’t any cocaine still sticking to him, before he turned his back on Daichi. “I’m going out to run some laps before practice stars. Don’t bother me about this again,” he demanded. “I know what I’m doing.”

* * *

Akaashi glanced at his phone. It was nearing two in the morning. He could remember meeting his dealer, Ohta, at around seven that night, but everything between then and now was one big blur. He was pretty sure he had spent most of the evening just walking around, but it was scary that he couldn’t remember anything beyond that.

Akaashi heaved himself up the stairs to his apartment. He felt absolutely wrecked. All he wanted to do was to go to sleep, but when he walked in the door, he found his living room full of people.

“Kozume,” Akaashi said, nodding in greeting.

He was perched on the arm of the couch, leaning up against his boyfriend, Kuroo. They were both staring at Kenma’s PSP, watching him play some game. Bokuto’s head was pillowed on Kuroo’s thigh, his body stretched out across the couch. He was definitely sleeping; otherwise, he would have run over to greet Akaashi already.

No one spoke to Akaashi as he took off his shoes and jacket. Kenma at least bothered to look up, but Kuroo didn’t turn towards Akaashi at all. It was almost like he didn’t hear him come in, except the way he was whiteknuckling the couch cushions proved that he had.

Akaashi scrubbed at his nose. He had no idea why Kuroo was angry. He had no idea what was happening at all, really. All he knew was that he needed to get in bed – _fast-_ before he fell asleep on his feet.

Akaashi walked towards his bedroom but he paused by Bokuto on his way. He ran a hand through his sleeping boyfriend’s hair, and his eyebrows pinched together at the sight of Bokuto’s face. Maybe Akaashi hadn’t been as attentive as usual, but there was no way he could miss the tear tracks on Bokuto’s cheeks. “What happened?” he demanded.

“ _You_ did,” Kuroo grunted through clenched teeth.

“Wha-“

“Shh, you’ll wake him,” Kuroo spat, covering Akaashi’s mouth with his hand. He looked angry.

Kenma huffed out a tiny sigh and grabbed Akaashi’s arm, taking pity on him. He forced him out to the balcony outside, where they wouldn’t have to keep their voices down. But Kenma didn’t say anything right away, and Akaashi suddenly felt anxious.

Or, well, he always felt anxious. It was just now he felt worse than usual.

“What did Kuroo mean?” Akaashi asked, his chest tightening up with worry. Kenma wasn’t very vocal, but he was usually pretty straight forward with Akaashi. It was scary to hear him be so quiet. “Kozume-san. What did Kuroo _mean?_ What did I do?”

“You weren’t home,” Kenma replied, gently nudging him to sit down on one of the chairs they had outside. Akaashi sat down slowly.

“Was I supposed to be home? I don’t... I don’t think I forgot anything. Bokuto and I didn’t have plans, I would have written it down.” Yes, Akaashi had been absolutely _faded_ lately, but he wouldn’t forget a date with Bokuto.

Kenma sighed. “It’s not that, it’s just... You know how Bokuto is,” Kenma replied. Which, to be fair, Akaashi did. Kenma did, too. He had spent enough weekends visiting Kuroo to see Bokuto in all of his energetic, overwhelming glory. “He was worried about you. And you didn’t text him back.”

“But-“ Akaashi frantically pulled out his phone from his pocket. His heart sank when he realized how many missed texts were on his phone. Akaashi was used to there being fifty or so messages from Bokuto every time he opened his phone, but he wasn’t used to about a million crying emojis and another half dozen messages from Kuroo telling him to come home.

What did he miss?

“Bokuto was upset.” It wasn’t a question, but Kenma grunted in confirmation anyway. Akaashi scrolled through a couple of Bokuto’s texts, feeling worse and worse about himself as he read through the ‘I need you’s and ‘come home’s. “And I wasn’t here for him.”

Kenma hummed and leaned up against the banister in front of Akaashi. He crossed his arms. “You _haven’t_ been here for him.”

“Okay, well... Well...” Akaashi ran his hands through his hair. “God, everyone keeps _saying_ that.”

“I wonder why.”

“Stop it!” Akaashi’s heart pounded against his ribcage. He put a hand over his mouth, feeling like he might throw up. He hated who he was becoming.

Akaashi had always been a mess. In middle school, he realized he would never meet his parents’ expectations, no matter how much he excelled in school and volleyball. It made it hard to feel motivated, to feel useful. He spent most of high school struggling to keep up with the never-ending homework and volleyball practice. People praised him for being calm and collected, but Akaashi had always felt anything but.

But how he felt in high school was nothing in comparison to how he felt now. He was unraveling, and everyone could tell.

Kenma seemed to realize that Akaashi was working himself up – _fast-_ and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Akaashi...”

Akaashi scrunched his eyes closed. The room felt like it was spinning.

“Akaashi, what’s-“

Whatever Kenma was going to say, he never got the chance to. Akaashi interrupted him by leaping up from his chair and promptly vomiting over the side of the balcony. He stayed there, holding his swimming head while a _very_ overwhelmed Kenma rushed into the apartment to get Kuroo.

Akaashi couldn’t continue like this. He couldn’t keep getting high, only to crash later. And he couldn’t keep making Bokuto cry. He needed to stop snorting coke. From this point on, Akaashi was quitting cold turkey.

* * *

Akaashi crammed curry into his face as quickly as possible. He had to refill the rice cooker twice today; he had already eaten so much.

The websites said that withdrawal from cocaine could result in an increased appetite. However, Akaashi _already_ had a massive appetite (when he wasn’t high, anyway), so for the past few days, Akaashi felt like he had been constantly eating.

Fortunately, Bokuto didn’t question it.

“Wow, Akaashi! It’s crazy to see you eat so much!” Bokuto said, nudging one of Akaashi’s stuffed cheeks. Akaashi winced and reached up to grab Bokuto’s hand. He threaded their fingers together as he realized just how much he had eaten. His stomach hurt.

“It’s just that you did a really good job cooking, Bokuto,” Akaashi said, resting his head down on the table. He needed a break.

Bokuto brightened. “Really?”

Akaashi closed his eyes, feeling guilt sweep over him. He was such a _liar._ He was so _awful._ His grades were awful, his volleyball was suffering, and his one reason for living was a boyfriend he didn’t even treat well. He should just end it. If he killed himself then this would all be over, and Akaashi wouldn’t have to _hate himself_ anymore.

The websites also said suicidal thoughts could be a product of withdrawal.

“Of course, Koutarou. You’re good at everything you do,” Akaashi promised. Bokuto sat up a little straighter, and Akaashi squeezed his hand. “I’m so proud of you,” he promised.

“Well, I _am_ a good cook!” he said brightly before deflating at the sight of Akaashi. “But you don’t look so good, Keiji. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Akaashi. Are you sick?” Kuroo asked, walking into the tiny kitchen with Kenma in toe. He hadn’t gone home yet, even thought the weekend was long over.

Akaashi glared at Kuroo. He knew he was cranky for no reason —he just wanted coke, that didn’t give him a right to treat his friends like shit— but there was a knowing look in Kuroo’s eyes that made him want to jump across the table and strangle him. He’d probably do it, too, if he weren’t so tired.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t _look_ fine,” Kenma pointed out, while Kuroo opened up the fridge. Kuroo shuffled through containers full of leftovers Akaashi had already picked over.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Akaashi spat, rolling his head on the tabletop so he was face down. He could feel Kenma’s worried eyes on him, and it made him feel like screaming.

Bokuto squirmed at his side. He had sat still for so long, he was probably getting antsy. “I dunno, Keiji. You threw up a few days ago. Maybe you’re still a little peely wally, huh?” he asked, using his free hand to run through Akaashi’s messy curls. Akaashi sat up a little to look at him. Bokuto seemed so worried and so... _oblivious._ “You might be fighting something off still.”

The fridge door slammed closed. Kuroo abruptly took a seat across from Akaashi, staring him down. “I definitely think Akaashi is fighting something off,” Kuroo said, giving Akaashi a pointed look. “We should keep our eye on him.”

“Okay! I can do that!” Bokuto said, standing up. “I’m going to go get a thermometer! And some medicine! And... And... And something else good for Keiji!” he declared before rushing off.

Akaashi blinked.

Kuroo was still staring at him, his expression cold and calculating. Akaashi hadn’t been on the receiving end of this look since he had just gotten together with Bokuto, and Kuroo had interrogated him before approving of their relationship. Akaashi had passed the test then, but he didn’t think he could pass it now.

“Withdrawal, huh?” Kuroo asked, Kenma sitting on the counter behind him. Akaashi crinkled his nose, and Kuroo answered his unasked question. “I talked to Daichi. Plus, you’ve been acting weird as shit. I was already kind of suspicious.”

“Why did Daichi talk to _you_ about it?” Akaashi asked.

Kuroo leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table. “Because he didn’t know how to confront Bokuto about it.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened. No one could tell Bokuto about this. It would hurt him so badly; Akaashi had known that since the start. It was why he worked so very hard to keep it secret, so Bokuto wouldn’t find out and he wouldn’t get upset. “Kuroo, you can’t tell-“

“I won’t,” Kuroo promised.

“Oh, thank goodn-“

“You will.”

Akaashi’s jaw hung open. He shook his head, trying to get himself together. “No, you don’t understand. I _can’t_ tell him. It’ll _kill_ him. He thinks the world of me, I don’t want to ruin that for him, I don’t want to let him down.”

“But you’re quitting, right?” Kenma asked. He didn’t seem angry or demanding. He just seemed worried. Akaashi and Kenma had always gotten along pretty well, especially considering how hard it was for Kenma to talk to people. Maybe Akaashi was hurting him to. “You’re not using anymore. That’s why you ate all my leftover yakisoba and have been more mopey than usual?”

Akaashi shrugged. “I mean... Well, yeah _._ ”

Kenma pressed his lips together. “So then it shouldn’t be so bad. Because Bokuto will be upset that you used crack, or coke, or whatever, but he’ll be there to help you if you’re trying to quit. You _know_ he would be,” he said. Akaashi refused to admit he was right, even as Kenma continued. “Plus, you can’t keep this a secret. He knows something is wrong. He’s been hovering over you for days.”

“Mmf,” Akaashi grunted, dropping his head back down on the table.

Bokuto came bursting into the room seconds later. “Akaashi, I got you a blanket! That’ll help, right? No matter what’s wrong? Blankets are good for every occasion!” he exclaimed happily.

Akaashi managed to sit up, and gratefully accepted the blanket Bokuto draped around his shoulders. “Of course, Koutarou. Thank you,” he said, shrinking under Kuroo and Kenma’s twin stares. He had a feeling this conversation wasn’t over, no matter how badly he wanted it to be.

* * *

Akaashi relapsed within a few hours.

The thought of telling Bokuto what he had done to himself... It made him feel so _small_. It was either get his hands on some more coke or throw himself off the roof of his apartment building.

He felt like the world’s biggest failure as he stumbled home with his jacket and phone missing and another five grams of cocaine rolled up in his pocket. He had gotten high.

Probably.

He wasn’t really sure.

He must have because he couldn’t remember getting home, he just remembered falling down from the best high he ever had to the lowest he had ever felt. He had told himself he would quit, and he hadn’t even lasted a week.

There was music thumping from the inside his apartment as he walked down the hallway. He turned the key slowly in the lock, not sure he had the energy to join whatever party was going on in his living room. He cracked open the door.

When he looked inside, he realized that there wasn’t a party. It was just Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kenma all huddled up on the couch playing some video game with the volume turned all the way up. Everyone was smiling. Everyone was laughing.

If Akaashi walked in the door, how long would it take for everyone to start frowning?

A sudden rush of self-loathing washed over Akaashi as he realized that he couldn’t even go into his own apartment because it would only upset everyone. He couldn’t even _look_ at any of these people.

Kuroo was mad at him; Kenma was worried. Bokuto was confused, and Akaashi felt terrible for causing so many problems.

He slowly backed away and closed the door, managing to go unnoticed. He took a shaky breath. They didn’t need him: his friends, his boyfriend. He hadn’t done anything for them in so long; they had all grown up and learned to live without him.

Akaashi hid his face in both hands. He let his shoulders shake as he held back sobs. He had ruined _everything._

Akaashi walked away from his apartment, tears flowing out of his eyes, and jabbed the elevator door button to go downstairs. The second the door was closed he carded out a line of coke on the linoleum tile in the elevator. Akaashi was so fucked.

Maybe he should never go home at all.

* * *

Sometime around four in the morning, Akaashi tripped back through the door of his apartment.

The lights were all out.

Everyone was asleep, and Akaashi thanked whatever god was listening for small miracles. He staggered his way to his bedroom, hoping he wasn’t too loud and that didn’t smell too much like smoke. He didn’t want to wake Bokuto up.

But of course, the second Akaashi fell into bed Bokuto opened his eyes. “Akaash-?” he slurred, reaching over Akaashi’s shoulder to grab their alarm clock from the nightstand. He lifted it so he could see the time. He opened his eyes more fully when he realized how late it was. “Akaashi! It’s 4:13 a.m.!” he exclaimed, dropping the clock in surprise. “Where have you _been_?”

Akaashi bit his bottom lip. He looked at Bokuto.

Bokuto’s salt and pepper hair had fallen into his eyes. He looked so cute and soft with his hair down. His golden eyes were half-lidded, but Akaashi could still see their beautiful color. His pupils always seemed to glow in the dark, and something painful twisted through Akaashi.

Where _had_ he been?

“I...” Akaashi choked, tears springing to his eyes again. “I don’t _know_ ,” he answered, a sudden sob wracking through his body.

Bokuto seemed overwhelmed for a moment before picking Akaashi up and holding him close. “What?” he asked, adjusting Akaashi’s legs to slot around his torso in one easy motion. He was so _strong._ “What do you mean? You don’t _know?_ What happened?”

Akaashi should his head and hid his face in the crook of Bokuto’s neck. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t stop the cries erupting from the back of his throat as he cried into Bokuto’s shoulder.

He hated himself _so much._

Tears poured down Akaashi’s cheeks in sheets. When he couldn’t manage to answer Bokuto, Bokuto’s shoulders started shaking beneath him. Akaashi heard a couple of sniffles in his ear, and he realized Bokuto was crying, too. He had upset Bokuto _again._

“Don’t worry, Akaashi. Don’t worry. We’ll get through this,” Bokuto said, his voice wavering. Akaashi shook his head again, his chest heaving, but Bokuto wouldn’t take no for an answer. “We’ll get through this, I promise.”

* * *

In the morning, Akaashi packed his suitcase with the lights off. He couldn’t keep doing this to Bokuto. It was wrong for him to make Bokuto take care of him like this, especially when all he did was lie to him and make him worry.

Akaashi kept as quiet as possible while he packed his things. He slipped out of the apartment unnoticed.

When Bokuto woke up, he would already be far away.

* * *

Akaashi had told himself that he couldn’t keep seeing Bokuto: not while he was on drugs, anyway. He wasn’t sure if he planned on quitting or if he planned on never seeing Bokuto again, but either way, he couldn’t have both coke and Bokuto at the same time.

Maybe Bokuto would move on before he could get clean, and his quitting wouldn’t even matter.

Regardless of the future, however, Akaashi couldn’t resist sneaking in to see the team’s final game of the season. He missed seeing Bokuto. He spent his time between highs crying into his capsule hotel room’s pillows and wishing Bokuto were there to hold him until he felt better.

Maybe seeing Bokuto from the stands in the gym would be enough to calm down. Maybe he would see how strong and independent Bokuto had become, and it would remind him why he left him in the first place.

Akaashi sat in the last row of bleachers. He kept his hood up and sunglasses on. The second the match started, he found himself searching for Bokuto on the court.

He couldn’t find him.

Akaashi’s eyes wandered over every starter player. There were some third years he had spoken to during his time on the team. Oikawa was the setter. Nishinoya had made libero, and Iwaizumi was a wing spiker, surprisingly enough. But Bokuto —for being one of the top five spikers in Japan— wasn’t on the court at all.

He searched the bench. He searched the box by the side of the court.

Bokuto wasn’t _anywhere._

Akaashi looked for their school’s banner, and found it on the opposite side of the room. He looked through his first year teammates who hadn’t made a starting position. He saw Watari, first. He saw Bokuto, second.

Watari’s arm was around him, almost comfortingly. Meanwhile, Bokuto’s shoulders were slumped and his body was still. The sight nearly ripped Akaashi’s heart out of his chest.

All season, their coach had been threatening to keep Bokuto off the court, and it looked like he had finally done it. Akaashi could only blame himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he gave Bokuto the tosses he needed to prove himself, and he looked so dejected... Bokuto couldn’t function through any kind of emotional distress. Akaashi walking out on him probably hadn’t helped his volleyball at all.

Akaashi bit his bottom lip. Every fiber in his being longed to rush over to Bokuto and comfort him. He wanted to sweep him up in his arms and kiss away every bad thought in his head. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to stop using cocaine.

But he couldn’t do any of that. And even if he could, Akaashi wasn’t any good for Bokuto anymore. He shouldn’t be with him; all he would do was bring him down.

God, Akaashi was just so _awful._

It was too much to think about, and watching the rest of the match wasn’t worth sticking around for if Bokuto wasn’t playing. Instead, Akaashi slinked over to the bathroom to snort enough cocaine to keep him high for a good hour. Hopefully, he would be out of it long enough to stop thinking about all of his mistakes.

* * *

Akaashi startled when something smacked him in the face. He sat up from his spot lying on a park bench and found a sandwich resting on his chest.

_Where did this come from?_

Akaashi looked around, confused, before his eyes fell on Kuroo of all people. He was standing above him with his hands on his hips. Akaashi had seen Kuroo look angry before, but he had never seen him _furious._ However, Kuroo had definitely toed past “fury” a long time ago. Akaashi shrunk at the look of sheer rage on his face.

“Bokuto fucking misses you,” Kuroo said.

“What?”

“Eat your fucking sandwich. You look like you’ve lost fifteen pounds since I last saw you,” Kuroo demanded, not answering him.

Akaashi sighed, thinking about the egg salad sandwich in front of him and the drugs in his sweatshirt pocket. Honestly, he would rather have cocaine than eat, and with his hotel room bills and meager job as a cashier, Akaashi had to make the choice between drugs and food often. “Twenty-two.”

“Excuse me?” Kuroo asked.

“It’s been twenty-two pounds,” Akaashi said, peeling the plastic wrap off of his sandwich. He took a small bite and Kuroo smacked the side of his head.

“You idiot. You didn’t have twenty-pounds to lose. You didn’t even have _five_ pounds to lose. Quit getting thinner,” he demanded.

Akaashi crinkled his nose, annoyed. He had been trying to enjoy a few last couple minutes of bliss in the park before his comedown fucked him up. Kuroo was making that difficult. Just seeing him made Akaashi’s chest constrict with anxiety. “How did you find me?”

“You’re in a public park next to campus,” Kuroo said, like Akaashi didn’t already know. Which, to be fair, he didn’t. He had no idea where he was. “I just looked over, and you were there with your scrawny arms. Your shoulders look narrower than one of my legs.”

“You can stop insulting me now.”

“No,” Kuroo spat. “What the fuck are you doing? You _know_ better than this, Akaashi.”

Akaashi’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe I do, or maybe I don’t,” he said. “Maybe I just don’t care.”

“Bullshit. You care too much, Akaashi, that was always your problem.”

Akaashi didn’t answer, just finished up half of his sandwich. He folded up the rest and stuck it in his sweatshirt pocket. Warm egg salad would be awful, he knew, but if he saved this for dinner, then he could put aside another five dollars or so for coke. Akaashi’s entire world revolved around cocaine nowadays. Even the worst food could taste like a five star meal if he was high.

When Kuroo was still standing in front of him after he finished his sandwich, Akaashi groaned. “Go away.”

“Not until you agree to get help. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Akaashi. You can’t keep killing yourself like this.”

“Yes, I can,” Akaashi replied, refusing to admit just how badly he wished this _would_ kill him. He didn’t _want_ to live anymore. He didn’t want to live in a world without coke, but he didn’t want to live addicted to it either. All his life, he worked himself to the bone to be better than this. It all hadn’t been worth it. He was society’s scum.

“Akaashi-“

“Go _away_ ,” Akaashi repeated, pulling his stash out from his pocket. He brought it to his nose and snorted right out of the bag, staring up at Kuroo as if he dared him to do something about it.

Kuroo’s face contorted with something that looked more like sadness than anger, but his voice was steely as ever. “ _Fuck_ you, Akaashi,” he said before storming away.

Akaashi sighed and lied back down on the bench. That had been unpleasant. Fortunately, he had coke to take all the pain away.

* * *

“Fuck.”

Akaashi looked up from his cash register and winced when he came face to face with Bokuto. “Koutarou- I mean, Bokuto-san,” he said in greeting. His stomach churned. Hopefully, Bokuto wouldn’t notice his dilated pupils or racing heartbeat. Surely, Kuroo told him about his drug use, but maybe Bokuto wouldn’t think to notice he was high.

“I didn’t think you worked here anymore,” Bokuto said, his voice high pitched and flustered. He sounded so _scared_ , like Akaashi was about to reach across the counter and slap him in the face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do this, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Akaashi replied, frowning.

Bokuto had dark smudges under his eyes. They were almost as bad as Akaashi’s. His arms looked stronger than ever, his shoulders looked wider, but Bokuto had always been one to go to they gym when something was getting him down. He had healthy coping mechanisms, unlike Akaashi.

His eyes looked dull.

“I’m just going to switch registers,” Bokuto said, gathering up his things in his arms. Akaashi’s heart broke when he realized he was buying sleepy time tea. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, I just-“

“Hey,” Akaashi said, reaching out to grab the box of tea from Bokuto’s arms. “This isn’t the kind I used to make for you.”

Bokuto stilled. “Oh?”

Akaashi hummed. He had only made tea to help Bokuto sleep two or three times. Normally, Bokuto exhausted himself during the day by running and jumping around so much he fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. But sometimes Kuroo liked making Bokuto watch scary movies while Akaashi tried to study, and Akaashi was always there for him afterwards with some tea to help him fall asleep and a thousand kisses to keep the nightmares away.

The box of tea had been full when Akaashi had left the apartment. He wondered how many sleepless nights Bokuto had tossed and turned through to run out of teabags.

“I used to get you the peach flavor,” Akaashi said. “This is the classic kind. It’s chamomile, lemongrass, and spearmint.”

Bokuto’s nose wrinkled up, and for a second, Akaashi forgot that he walked out on Bokuto, that he hadn’t seen him in weeks, that they weren’t together anymore.

But only for a second.

“I don’t like spearmint,” Bokuto said.

Akaashi nodded. “I know.” He did know. “That’s why I always gave you the peach kind.” A moment of silence passed between them and Akaashi took a deep breath, searching for something to say. He didn’t want the conversation to end. He didn’t want Bokuto to walk away. “But, you know, you there’s a decaf berry pomegranate that we sell here. You might like it, and it’ll be even better for getting to sleep, if that’s what you need it for.”

Bokuto’s head quirked to the side. “Really?”

“Yeah. There’s also a honey one and a vanilla one.” Akaashi’s throat closed up. He wished he were more levelheaded so he could hold this conversation better, but he still felt like he was floating from the drugs he snorted in the break room earlier. There were tears in his voice as he spoke again. “There’s also a lemon jasmine? But I don’t like lemon things so I never bought it, and I don’t... I don’t know how you feel about it. Maybe you’d like it. I don’t... I don’t know. I don’t-“

“Akaashi, I’m just going to switch lanes,” Bokuto squeaked, taking his things and running away.

Akaashi blinked in surprise but watched him go. His mouth felt dry.

For the rest of the afternoon, he felt like absolute shit, and his work definitely suffered from it. He couldn’t move his arms to scan items; he couldn’t keep track of the change he was counting. He could hardly hold himself up at the counter. It was too much effort just to stand up.

“Akaashi!” his manager boomed. “Where’s your happy smile?”

Akaashi sighed but managed to put on his work-smile. All the cashiers were supposed to grin and greet their customers. Akaashi wondered if all the people who came through his lane knew how fake he was.

* * *

“Hey, my man, Akaashi. Didn’t expect to see you here so fast,” Ohta said, opening his front door wide. He held up a hand for a high five.

Akaashi kept his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Yeah,” Akaashi said, checking over his shoulder. Getting here had been a nightmare. It had been way too long since his last fix. He was trying to wean himself of his drug addiction. After talking with Bokuto again, he found himself... Well, _caring._ Akaashi hadn’t put any thought into his quality of life in awhile, but things with Bokuto had been so good... Akaashi couldn’t help but feel lonely.

But he couldn’t go long without drugs, he had realized. It had only been a couple of hours, and he felt _awful_. He was so panicked and paranoid. The whole walk here, he could have sworn he was being followed.

Plus, being sober and realizing that he was staying in a “room” the size of a coffin was a little too much for him. The second the drugs wore off was the second Akaashi realized how suffocating it was to stay in a capsule. He needed to forget about his crappy living conditions, and while he was at it, he should probably also forget his dreams about ever being sober.

“Can you just give me a ball please?” Akaashi asked. “Like... now?”

“All right,” Ohta agreed. “Twenty thousand yen.”

Akaashi’s vision blurred with tears. “ _What?”_ He had his wallet in his hands, but it was useless. That was way more money than he had on him. “That’s so expensive, what happened?”

Ohta smirked. “Supply and demand, my friend. If you’re going to keep coming to me, you’re going to have to start paying up.”

Akaashi gripped at his hair and blinked back tears. Ohta was charging him twice as much as usual. “Listen, Ohta, there’s no way I can pay that. There’s just... It’s not going to happen. I’m going to have to find someone else. Can’t you just... I mean... I can’t pay that much.”

Ohta stared at him, his gaze gauging. “How much money do you have in your wallet?”

Akaashi pulled out his bills to count them but Ohta snagged them before he got the chance. He tossed a ball towards Akaashi. “There you go. Bring more cash next time,” Ohta demanded before slamming the door in Akaashi’s face.

* * *

Akaashi squinted at his cash drawer. He counted out his bills and change for the fifth time, and bit his bottom lip when he realized he was short again.

He couldn’t count change when he was high. The math was only simple addition and subtraction, and normally, Akaashi could beat his register when it came to sorting out change. However, when he was high, it was like his entire brain was full of cotton, and he couldn’t figure out how to add up coins to give customers back the right amount of yen.

A few honorable customers had handed him back 500 and 1,000 yen bills when he made mistakes. However, his empty cash drawer indicated that Akaashi hadn’t always been so lucky.

He scrubbed his face and approached his manager.

“Hasekura-san,” he said, greeting his boss awkwardly. “I’m... I’m sorry, but my cash drawer is low again today. Please take the missing money from my pay.”

Akaashi knew he should be scared of his manager’s angry gaze, but his mind was too foggy. This wasn’t the first time he had messed up his cash drawer. He had a discrepancy every day this week, and his manager had reamed him out multiple times for his mistakes. He would be amazed if he managed to keep his job after screwing up again.

His manager rubbed his face with one hand. Akaashi knew that it was rare to be fired in Japan, but messing up change was effectively as bad as stealing, especially on the scale Akaashi was doing it. Today he had sixty thousand yen missing. That was more money than Akaashi had earned working today.

“Akaashi... I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to resign,” Hasekura said. He sounded tired.

Akaashi blinked. Normally, the idea of resigning from the one job he was even remotely qualified for would terrify him. However, he was still on the tail end of the last quarter gram he snorted when he pretended to tie his shoe at the register. He didn’t care about anything right now.

He laughed happily at his boss’s request. “Sure,” he agreed before he could stop the words from falling out of his mouth. Before Hasekura could say anything else on the matter, he walked back to his register, ripped out the cash drawer, and turned it upside down onto the floor. Coins clattered around his feet and Akaashi stepped on them as he left the store. He walked out with his head down and his hands stuffed in his pockets.

* * *

Akaashi’s stared at his wallet.

It was empty.

It was also fake leather. Akaashi probably wouldn’t get anything for it if he tried to pawn it. He had tried to pawn his pleather boots a few days ago, and he had only been offered five dollars for them.

Akaashi had snatched up those five dollars in a heartbeat, though. He wasn’t in a position where he could pass up on money. He had nothing. _Nothing._ He didn’t have money for drugs, much less the 2,000 yen it would cost to stay in his capsule for another night.  
  
He had once heard that you had to hit rock bottom to quit drugs: that until you reached that point, you would always feel like it was worth it.

Well, Akaashi had hit rock bottom, but cocaine had stopped being worth it a long, long time ago.

* * *

**Present Day:**

* * *

Akaashi stood outside of his and Bokuto’s previously shared apartment, his hand hovering just above the door handle.

“Keiji?”

Akaashi turned slowly, terrified. With wide eyes, he found himself face to face with Bokuto. He had dropped his groceries on the floor. A stray orange rolled towards Akaashi and knocked into one of the wheels on his suitcase. Bokuto seemed to notice his bag.

“Keiji, are you...?”

Akaashi turned away a little too quickly. He felt light headed. Whether it was from hunger or withdrawal, he couldn’t tell. “I’m so sorry, Bokuto-san. I know you probably hate me, but if I could just stay with you for a little while until I-“

“Akaashi!” Bokuto yelled, suddenly running at Akaashi at full speed. Akaashi managed to put his hands up just in time to prevent Bokuto from _fully_ slamming into him; although, Bokuto still managed to knock the wind out of him. “Akaashi! You’re home! You’re _home_! I’m so happy! Keiji, don’t ever leave again! Stay with me forever, I missed you so much. You can’t leave again! I’m so happy you’re home! You have to stay home. Please stay with me!”

Akaashi admittedly felt a little sick as Bokuto spun them in circles. However, he was mostly alarmed. He hadn’t expected a happy reaction from Bokuto; he had expected to be yelled at. It was so unbelievably wrong for Akaashi to ask to stay with Bokuto after he had up and left without a word.

Akaashi’s spindly hands gripped at Bokuto’s t-shirt as he tried to steady himself. “I’m sorry, but... But why are you _happy_ about me being here, Bokuto-san?” he asked, inexplicable anxiety coursing through him.

Bokuto stopped spinning them in circles but his grip on Akaashi didn’t loosen in the slightest. “Because I _love_ you, Akaashi,” he replied.

Like it was ever so simple.

Akaashi’s bottom lip wobbled. The way Bokuto was looking at him and holding him... It made him feel like a little kid. He felt so stupid for leaving him, and he felt even dumber for ever getting hooked on drugs in the first place.

He clenched his eyes closed, tears leaking out the outer corners of his eyes anyway. “But I don’t take care of you anymore,” he said, voice cracking.

Bokuto hummed, and Akaashi cracked one eye open to look at him. He looked more emotional than Akaashi had ever seen him, which was saying something. Akaashi had seen Bokuto through thick and thin, and to see him staring at him like this... Like he still cared about him... It was almost too much. “You never had to,” Bokuto swore. “I love you for _you,_ Akaashi. I’m just happy you’re home,” he promised, voice tight as Akaashi’s.

Akaashi stopped wincing at Bokuto. He blinked twice.

Suddenly, Akaashi threw himself at Bokuto, surprising even himself. His feet found purchase on the floor as he pressed his torso so tightly against Bokuto’s that the other boy ended up backing up into the wall. Akaashi hid his face in Bokuto’s chest. “I-I’m s-so _sorry,_ ” he wailed.

Bokuto rubbed his back. “Don’t be, Akaashi, you’re _home.”_

“Y-You should be _mad at me._ ”

“But I _can’t_ be mad at you, Akaashi. You’re _home,_ ” Bokuto repeated.

Akaashi felt weak in Bokuto’s arms. He had wanted to be held by him for so long without ever realizing just how badly he needed it. Why hadn’t he ever been honest? Why hadn’t he just told him about how stressed he was? About the constant pressure? Bokuto could have hugged him like this a long time ago. “I should have t-told you. I sh-should have been _honest.”_

Bokuto’s arms snaked a little further around Akaashi’s waist. “Keiji, it’s really nice that you’re apologizing, and I really wish you would have talked to me, and... and all this is good, but... But I’m just _so happy you’re home._ Can we just talk about it later? Because right now you’re back! For the first time in ages!”

Akaashi managed to choke out laugh through his tears. “I am,” he replied, pulling away from Bokuto. The second he managed to peel himself away, Bokuto snatched him right back up. He laughed again, although this time a little less weakly. “What would you rather do, then? Instead of listening to me apologize?”

Bokuto rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s _obvious_ , Akaashi,” he replied before capturing his lips in a kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

**Bonus Scene:**

* * *

Akaashi would have thought that Kuroo would be the one to demand he go to rehab, while Bokuto begged to have him stay home with outpatient care. However, it turned out to be the opposite.

Kuroo had been angrier about what Akaashi had been doing to himself than what he had been doing to Bokuto, and he had been relieved to have him back in the same space. Kuroo hadn’t wanted to let Akaashi out of his sight again.

With all the drugs, Akaashi had forgotten that they used to be friends.

But Akaashi had made the mistake of mentioning his suicidal thoughts to Bokuto, and Bokuto couldn’t handle the responsibility of making sure Akaashi didn’t kill himself. And that was fair. Akaashi had lost the ability to take care of himself. He needed to relearn how to feel valuable, and he needed to do it in a place where drugs weren’t available.

But now, three months later, he was graduating.

“Do I get to take you home now?” Bokuto asked for the fifth time in as many minutes. Akaashi laughed, practically giggling as Bokuto pressed kiss after kiss to his cheek.

“Almost!” he promised. “I think I have one more trip to make up to my room and then we can go.”

“Can I come with you?” Bokuto asked, clinging to him. He had been touchy ever since Akaashi walked out to greet him with his certificate. Bokuto had tried not to visit too often, so he had missed him desperately. One of the big things Akaashi needed to work on was not being so codependent, and having Bokuto around interfered with him learning how to stand on his own two feet.

All this time, he thought Bokuto was the one who needed him. But really, it was Akaashi who was too heavily dependent on Bokuto.

“Sure. Come on.”

“Yay!” Bokuto swept him up bridal style and carried Akaashi up to his room for his last couple things. Akaashi patted his shoulder to be let down. Bokuto grabbed the picture frames from his bedside table. He had one picture of the volleyball team –who were hoping to see him back at practice very soon- and one picture of Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kenma.

Akaashi collected the vase Bokuto had painted for him over a year ago and the white camellias thriving inside.

Bokuto grinned. “That’s it?”

Akaashi nodded. “That’s it.”

“You’re coming home for real now?”

“Of course. Why are you so worried?”

Bokuto flushed. He looked down at his toes, while Akaashi closed the door to his old room in the rehab center. “Because I _love you_ , Akaashi,” Bokuto replied sheepishly.

Akaashi smiled and stood up on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bokuto’s cheek. “I know,” he replied. And for the first time since Bokuto had started using ‘because I love you’ as an explanation, Akaashi actually believed it.

**Author's Note:**

> Okie dokie. 
> 
> So I had a lot of things I wanted to mention in the notes while I was writing this, but I don't remember most of them, except they all had to do with this: 
> 
> This wasn't written to put Akaashi in any kind of negative light. I just wanted to explore how anxiety can lead to different dangerous coping mechanisms. And I wanted to make extra clear that his drug use was solely because he didn't know how to handle the mounting pressures, not because he wanted to hurt anyone. 
> 
> Addiction is a complicated thing. 
> 
> Also, my tumblr is @thecheekybrunnette. Feel free to stop by and say hello!


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